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THE 


LIFE,  SPEECHES,  AND  MEMORIALS 


OP 


DANIEL  WEBSTER; 


CONTAINING 


HIS  MOST  CELEBRATED  ORATIONS, 

A  SELECTION  FROM  THE  EULOGIES  DELIVERED  ON  THE 
OCCASION  OF  HIS  DEATH; 

AND  HIS  LIFE  AND  TIMES, 


BY 


SAMUEL  M.  SMUCKER,  LL.D., 

AUTHOR  OF   "COURT  AND  REIGN   OF  CATHARINE  II.,"   "HISTORY  OF   NICHOLAS  I,"   "ARCTIC 

EXPLORATIONS   AND   DISCOVERIES,"    "LIFE   OF   ALEXANDER   HAMILTON," 

"  MEMORABLE  SCENES  IN   FRENCH    HISTORY,"  ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PUBLISHED    BY    DUANE    RULISON, 

No.    33    SOUTH    THIRD    STREET. 

ST.  LOUIS:  C.  DREW,  125  LOCUST  STREET. 

GENEVA,  N.Y.:  J.  WHITLEY,  JR.,  DAVIS'  BLOCK,  WATER  ST. 

1861. 


H  54O 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  tho  year  1859,  by 
DUANE   RULISON, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern 
District  of  Pennsylvania. 


STEREOTYPED  BT  L.  JOHNSON  &  CO. 
PHILADELPHIA. 


a.  A 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  work  has  been  prepared  in  order  to 
supply  a  want,  in  reference  to  the  life  and  political  career 
of  Daniel  Webster,  which  was  believed  still  to  exist  among 
the  reading  public.  Biographies  of  this  distinguished  man, 
possessing  various  degrees  of  merit,  abound  on  every  hand; 
but  there  is  no  work  in  existence  which  contains,  in  so  con 
venient  and  compact  a  form  as  the  present,  a  narrative  of 
the  chief  events  of  his  life,  together  with  a  selection  from 
his  most  celebrated  speeches,  and  the  most  worthy  eulo 
gies  which  were  elicited  from  his  admiring  countrymen 
in  regard  to  him  at  the  period  of  his  death. 

The  main  purpose,  therefore,  of  the  present  volume,  is  not 
so  much  the  exhibition  of  originality  as  the  attainment  of 
usefulness.  That  portion  of  it  which  is  devoted  to  Mr. 
Webster's  biography  presents  a  history  of  all  the  im 
portant  incidents  of  his  career.  The  selection  from  his 
speeches  has  been  carefully  made ;  and  the  writer's  effort 
has  been  to  choose  those  which  derived  superior  value  both 
from  the  magnitude  of  the  occasions  on  which  they  were 
delivered,  and  from  the  greater  profundity  and  power 
which  characterize  them.  Of  the  various  eulogies  which 

3 

M111799 


4  PREFACE. 

were  pronounced  on  Mr.  Webster  after  his  decease,  the 
most  elaborate  and  excellent  which  the  writer  has  been 
able  to  procure,  and  to  use  without  encroaching  on  the 
rights  of  others,  have  here  been  reprinted.  The  writer, 
therefore,  indulges  the  hope,  that,  taken  as  a  whole,  the 
work  may  prove  a  not  unworthy  tribute  to  the  fame  of 
one  of  the  most  eminent  and  illustrious  men  of  modern 
times. 

S.  M.  S. 

,  January  25,  1859. 


CONTENTS. 


fife  an&  ®to  0f  gatwl  SMstar. 

CHAPTER  I. 

PAG  I 

Birth  o.  i>aniel  Webster — Sketch  of  his  Family — His  Boyhood — His  First 
Teachers — Enters  a  Law- Office — Becomes  a  Student  of  Phillips  Academy 
— Peculiarities  of  Dr.  Abbot — Webster  commences  to  teach  School — His 
Usefulness  and  Success 9 

CHAPTER  II. 

Webster's  Intercourse  with  Dr.  Samuel  Wood — He  prepares  himself  for 
College — He  enters  Dartmouth  College — His  Habits  and  Pursuits — He 
delivers  a  Fourth-of-July  Oration — Extract  from  it — He  completes  his 
Collegiate  Course — His  Speech  at  graduating lb 

CHAPTER  III. 

Webster  continues  the  Study  of  the  Law — He  becomes  Principal  of  Frye- 
burg  Academy — Mr.  Fessenden — His  Further  Studies  with  Mr.  Thomson 
— His  Removal  to  Boston — Christopher  Gore — The  Offered  Clerkship — 
Webster's  Admission  to  the  Bar — Commences  Practice  at  Boscawen — His 
Removal  to  Portsmouth — His  Marriage — His  First  Term  in  Congress....  24 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Calamity  at  Portsmouth — Webster's  Second  Term  in  Congress — The  Tariff 
— Webster's  Opposition  to  it — His  Removal  to  Boston — His  Professional 
Distinction — Case  of  Kenniston  vs.  Goodridge— Mr.  Webster  declines  Po 
litical  Honors — Continues  his  Professional  Labors — Serves  in  the  Con 
vention  to  Revise  the  Constitution  of  Massachusetts — Celebrated  Dart 
mouth  College  Case — Signal  Display  of  Mr.  Webster's  Abilities 36 

CHAPTER  V. 

Mr.  Webster  again  elected  to  Congress — Debates  in  Congress  respecting 
Greece — Mr  Webster's  Speech  on  the  Occasion — Extract  from  it — His 

1*  5 


6  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Opposition  to  the  Tariff — Mr.  Webster's  Speech  on  the  Laying  of  Bunker 
Hill  Monument — Chairman  of  the  Judiciary  Committee — Reform  in  the 
U.  S.  Supreme  Court — Mr.  Webster's  Speech  on  the  Death  of  John  Adams 
— He  is  elected  Senator  from  Massachusetts  in  the  Twentieth  Congress...  52 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Webster's  Reply  to  Mr.  Hayne — Preliminary  Circumstances — Speeches  of 
Mr.  Benton— Mr.  Hayne's  First  Speech— His  Character  and  Talents— Mr. 
Webster's  First  Speech  in  Reply— The  Second  Speech  of  Mr.  Hayne— Its 
Character — Extract  from  it — Mr.  Webster's  Reply — Intense  Interest  felt 
on  the  Occasion — Mr.  Webster's  Appearance  and  Manner — The  Audience 
— Qualities  of  his  Great  Speech — Its  Prodigious  Effect  and  Power 6b» 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Death  of  Mrs.  Webster— Mr.  Webster's  Second  Marriage— The  Celebrated 
Case  of  John  Francis  Knapp — Circumstances  of  the  Case — Revelations 
of  Hatch — Of  Palmer — Crowninshield  arrested — The  Two  Knapps — 
Confession  of  Joseph  Knapp — Trial  of  Francis  and  Joseph  Knapp — The 
Result — Mr.  Choate's  Narrative — Mr.  Webster's  Ability  as  a  Criminal 
Lawyer — The  Variety  of  his  Talents 88 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Accession  of  General  Jackson  to  the  Presidency — Mr.  Van  Buren  rejected 
as  Minister  to  England — Mr.  Webster  supports  the  Renewal  of  the 
Charter  of  the  U.  S.  Bank — Removal  of  the  Deposits — Disastrous  Con 
sequences — Mr.  Webster's  Speeches  on  the  Subject — Nullification  in 
South  Carolina — Mr.  Webster's  Celebrated  Speech  thereon — The  Action 
of  the  President  and  of  Congress — Accession  of  Van  Buren  to  the  Pre 
sidency — The  Sub-Treasury  Scheme — Mr.  Webster's  Opposition  to  it — 
Abolition  of  Slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia 98 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Mr.  Webster's  Visit  to  England — Election  of  General  Harrison  to  the  Pre 
sidency—His  Death— Accession  of  Mr.  Tyler— The  "  Treaty  of  Wash 
ington" — Its  Various  Provisions — Ability  displayed  by  Mr.  Webster  as 
a  Diplomatist — Approval  of  the  Treaty  by  Congress  and  the  Executive 
— "  Impressment" — Great  Oration  of  Mr.  Webster  in  Faneuil  Hall — Ex 
tract  from  the  Speech— Hostility  of  C.  J.  Ingersoll  to  Mr.  Webster— Mr. 
Webster's  Retort  upon  him , 113 

CHAPTER  X. 

Temporary  Retirement  of  Mr.  Webster  from  Political  Life — His  Legal  Argu 
ments — The  Girard  Will  Case — Suit  against  the  City  of  Boston — Mr. 
Webster  returns  to  the  Senate — Annexation  of  Texas — Disj  nte  respect- 


CONTENTS. 


ing  Oregon  Territory — The  Mexican  War — Admission  of  California — 
The  Compromise  Measures  of  Mr.  Clay — Mr.  Webster's  Able  Speech  on 
the  Subject 127 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Death  of  General  Taylor— Mr.  Webster's  Eulogy  upon  Him— Mr.  Web 
ster's  Last  Speech  in  the  Senate — Mr.  Fillmore  appoints  him  Secretary 
of  State— Mr.  Webster's  Celebrated  Letter  to  Chevalier  Hiilsemann— 
Disputed  Authorship — Expedition  of  Lopez  against  Cuba — Its  Results 
— Other  Questions  of  Importance  disposed  of  by  Mr.  Webster — His 
Treatment  of  Kossuth 136 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Approach  of  Mr.  Webster's  Last  Illness — His  Religious  Opinions — A  Sum 
mary  of  it — Mr.  Webster's  Will — New  and  Alarming  Symptoms — Mr. 
Webster's  Scrutiny  of  his  Own  Dissolution — His  Death — His  Intellectual 
Character — Parallel  between  Him  and  Alexander  Hamilton — Mr.  Web 
ster's  Skill  in  Agru-ulturo — His  Library — His  F;ivorite  Amusements— 
His  Fondness  for  the  Sea-Shore — The  Admirable  Proportion  of  his 
Mental  Faculties — His  Peculiarities  as  an  Orator — His  Great  Logical 
Power — His  Boldness  and  Fortitude — The  Permanence  and  Splendor  of 
his  Fame....  ..  144 


Sjwtlres  0f  ganid 


I.  —  Mr.  Webster's  Reply  to  Mr.  Hayne  in  the  U.  S.  Senate,  January 

26,  1830  .........................................................................  151 

II.  —  Speech  in  the  Senate  on  the  Slavery  Compromise,  March  7,  1850.  253 

III.  —  Speech  on  the  Greek  Revolution,  delivered  in  the  House  of  Re 

presentatives,  January  19,  1823  ..........................................  305 

IV.  —  Speech  on  the  Trial  of  John  F.  Knapp  for  murder,  at  Salem,  Mas 

sachusetts  .................  .  .....................................................  347 

V.  —  Argument  in  the   Goodridge  Case,  delivered  in  April,  1817,  at 

Ipswich  Massachusets  ................................................  ,    ....  418 


CONTENTS. 


©biters  Jubtosw  gdibmi  mi  %  ®mim  0f  fir. 


PAOK 

I. — Eulogy  by  Mr.  Davis  in  the  United  States  Senate 441 

IL— Eulogy  by  Mr.  Butler 445 

III.— Eulogy  by  Mr.  Cass 447 

IV.— Eulogy  by  Mr.  Seward 453 

V.— Eulogy  by  Mr.  Stockton 459 

VI. — Eulogy  by  Mr.  Davis,  in  the  House  of  Representatives 462 

VII. — Eulogy  by  Mr.  Appleton , 464 

VIII.— Eulogy  by  Mr.  Preston 469 

IX. — Eulogy  by  Mr.  Seymour 473 

X.— Eulogy  by  Mr.  Chandler 477 

XL— Eulogy  by  Mr.  Bayly 481 

XII.— Eulogy  by  Mr.  Stanley 485 

XIII.— Eulogy  by  Mr.  Taylor 490 

XIV.— Address  of  Edward  Everett,  delivered  in  Boston 493 

XV. — Rufus  Choate's  Address  to  the  Boston  Bar 50] 

XVI.— Eulogy  delivered  by  George  S.  Hillard  in  Boston 514 

XVII.— Eulogy  delivered  by  Hiram  Ketchum,  in  New  York 54.'. 

XVIIL— The  Obsequies  of  Daniel  Webster 545 


THE 

LIFE  AND    TIMES 


OP 


DANIEL    WEBSTER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Birth  of  Daniel  Webster— Sketch  of  his  Family— His  Boyhood— His 
First  Teachers — Enters  a  Law-Office — Becomes  a  Student  of  Phillips 
Academy — Peculiarities  of  Dr.  Abbot — Webster  commences  to  teach 
School — His  Usefulness  and  Success. 

ALL  civilized  nations  have  been  proud  of  the  fame  of  their 
most  eminent  orators  and  statesmen.  Greece,  the  gifted  land 
of  ancient  art  and  genius,  boasts  of  her  Demosthenes  and 
JEschines;  Rome,  the  martial  mistress  of  the  world,  of 
her  Cicero  and  Hortensius ;  England,  of  her  Chatham  and 
Burke;  France,  of  her  Mirabeau  and  Vergniaud.  Our 
own  country  justly  entertains  the  same  sentiment  of  par 
tiality  and  admiration  for  her  two  most  illustrious  citizens, 
her  CLAY  and  WEBSTER.  These  are  her  greatest  intel 
lectual  giants ;  and  around  their  achievements  as  orators, 
as  patriots,  and  as  statesmen  a  deathless  interest  will  con 
tinue  to  cluster,  as  long  as  this  Republic  retains  a  place 
either  in  reality,  or  even  in  history,  and  as  long  as  liberty 
is  enjoyed  or  revered  among  men. 

DANIEL  WEBSTEK,  the  intellectual  Colossus  of  the  New 


1 Q  t  • ;   , '  t  •  •  ;  THE   LIFE  AND   TIMES 


World,  was  born  at  Salisbury,  New  Hampshire,  on  the 
18th  of  January,  1782.  He  was  the  youngest  son  of 
Ebenezer  and  Abigail  Webster.  He  first  saw  the  light  in 
the  remotest  recesses  of  what  was  at  that  time  the  extreme 
verge  of  civilization,  on  the  northeastern  boundary  of  the 
United  States.  The  humble  tenement  in  which  he  was 
born  was  the  last  house  which  then  existed  in  the  direction 
of  the  Canadian  frontier. 

Daniel  was  one  of  a  family  of  ten  children;  and  his 
ancestors  were  worthy  to  have  preceded  so  illustrious  a 
man.  They  had  been  residents  of  Rockingham  county, 
New  Hampshire,  from  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  and  had  always  been  esteemed  for  their  superior 
intelligence  and  moral  worth.  His  father,  Ebenezer  Web 
ster,  was  a  man  of  rare  virtues  and  of  great  mental 
powers.  His  large,  muscular  frame  encased  a  soul  gifted 
with  qualities  which  allied  him  in  character  to  the  sternest 
sages  of  Greece  or  Rome.  He  never  attended  school  a 
single  day ;  yet  by  his  self-taught  exertions  he  attained  a 
wide  and  accurate  acquaintance  with  knowledge  of  almost 
every  description.  In  those  primeval  times  when  the 
luxuries  and  even  the  conveniences  of  civilization  were 
rarely  attainable,  except  by  those  most  favored  by  fortune, 
Ebenezer  Webster  pursued  his  lonely  and  undirected 
studies  at  night  by  the  lurid  light  of  blazing  pine-knots ; 
and  thus  he  gradually  prepared  himself  to  assume  no 
Humble  place  among  his  contemporaries.  During  the  trials 
of  the  Revolutionary  era  he  was  made  the  captain  of  a 
company  of  his  co-patriots;  he  served  with  honor  at 
Bennington  and  White  Plains ;  and,  after  peace  was  pro 
claimed,  he  received,  among  other  marks  of  esteem  and 
confidence  from  his  fellow-citizens,  the  office  of  Associate 
Judge  in  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas. 

Of  the  other  members  of  the  family,  the  most  remark- 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  11 

able  was  Ezekiel  Webster,  an  elder  brother  of  Daniel.  He 
too  became  a  lawyer,  was  a  man  of  superior  ability,  pos 
sessing  the  same  massive  mould  of  intellectual  as  well  as 
physical  character  which  marked  his  more  illustrious 
brother ;  but  he  died  suddenly  and  prematurely,  in  the 
midst  of  an  argument  which  he  was  delivering  before  the 
court  at  Concord,  in  his  native  State,  at  the  age  of  forty- 
nine. 

The  boyhood  of  Daniel  "Webster  was  spent  in  the 
obscure  and  rural  retreat  where  he  was  born.  At  this 
period  he  was  of  slender  frame  and  delicate  health.  It  is 
narrated  that  the  most  remarkable  feature  of  the  strangely 
intelligent  and  thoughtful  child  then  were  two  immense 
eyes,  which  seemed  to  be  instinct  with  thought,  feeling, 
and  expression ;  and,  as  we  turn  over  the  annals  of  the 
earliest  years  of  this  wondrous  man,  we  meet  with  addi 
tional  proofs  that  a  mother's  mind  and  power,  as  in  the  vast 
majority  of  cases,  moulded  and  gave  character  to  the  future 
mental  and  moral  qualities  of  the  man.  Daniel's  mother 
was  his  first  and  best  teacher.  From  her  he  received  the 
first  rudiments  of  learning.  His  first  text-book  was  also 
the  best ;  for  it  was  the  Bible.  So  early  had  he  been 
taught  his  letters,  that  he  is  reported  to  have  declared  that 
he  could  not  remember  the  time  when  he  could  not  spell. 
As  he  grew  in  years,  he  increased  in  intelligence,  and  was 
remarked  for  a  degree  of  wit  which  surpassed  his  fellows. 
When  a  boy,  having  set  the  bed-clothes  on  fire  while  reading 
late  at  night,  he  replied,  when  reproved  for  his  careless 
ness,  that  he  was  in  search  of  light,  but  was  sorry  to  say 
that  he  received  more  of  it  than  he  desired. 

The  first  school  which  Daniel  attended  was  situated  two 
miles  and  a  half  from  the  paternal  residence,  and  it  was 
necessary  for  him,  even  during  the  severest  rigors  of  winter, 
to  walk  thither  and  back.  He  was  ardent  in  the  pursuit  of 


J.2  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

knowledge,  and,  indeed,  seemed  intuitively  to  appreciate  its 
vast  importance.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  he  could  repeat 
from  memory  the  whole  of  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,  together 
with  a  large  proportion  of  the  hymns  and  psalms  of  Dr. 
Watts.  His  first  teachers  were  Thomas  Chase  and  James 
Tappan,  to  whom  belonged  the  honor  of  having  aided  in 
the  opening  of  the  mind  and  the  first  development  of  the 
powers  of  this  as  yet  quiescent  and  infant  giant.  These 
faithful  and  patient  pedagogues  have  long  since  passed 
away  to  the  oblivious  repose  of  the  tomb ;  but  their  services 
in  this  connection  entitle  them  to  honorable  mention  in 
the  history  of  their  illustrious  pupil  through  all  coming 
time. 

It  is  also  worthy  of  remark  that  during  his  boyish  days 
Daniel  was  called  on  to  contribute  his  share  of  manual 
work  to  the  usual  labors  of  his  father's  farm ;  and  we  may 
readily  imagine  the  boy,  arrayed  in  his  tow  frock  and 
trowsers,  with  his  rake  or  sickle  in  his  hand,  perspiring  at 
every  pore,  toiling  hard  during  the  long  days  of  harvest- 
time  to  gather  the  gold-bearing  crop.  Of  this  feature  of 
his  youthful  days  Daniel  Webster  was  ever  afterward 
proud ;  and  in  his  great  speech  on  the  "  Agriculture  of 
England,"  delivered  in  Boston  in  1840,  he  referred  with 
undisguised  pleasure  to  the  fact  that  in  his  early  life  he 
had  been  made  familiar  with  the  labors  and  the  details  of 
husbandry. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen  Daniel  was  permitted  by  his 
father  to  become  office-boy  to  Mr.  Thomas  W.  Thompson, 
a  young  lawyer  who  at  that  period  removed  to  Elm 
Farm  and  commenced  practice.  The  latter  was  frequently 
compelled  to  be  abot/ut  from  home,  and  he  needed  some 
one  to  answer  for  him  to  clients  and  visitors  when  he  him 
self  was  not  present.  He  rewarded  the  lad  by  permitting 
him  to  use  some  of  his  books,  and  by  giving  him  useful 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  1'j 

directions  as  to  his  studies.  He  first  placed  in  Daniel's 
hands  a  Latin  grammar.  Soon,  without  any  difficulty,  the 
lad  mastered  a  large  portion  of  its  dry  details.  Next 
came  other  productions,  of  a  more  intricate  and  ponderous 
nature ;  among  which  were  some  of  the  more  elaborate 
and  profound  works  on  English  real-estate  law.  It  is  said 
that  the  youthful  student  pored  over  these  books  during 
six  hours  each  morning,  while  the  afternoon  was  given  to 
the  more  congenial  reading  of  Shakspeare  and  other  lead 
ing  works  in  the  more  attractive  department  of  belles- 
lettres  literature. 

We  may  readily  suppose  that  this  very  early  tincture  of 
legal  knowledge  may  have  given  young  Webster's  mind  a, 
bias  for  the  abstruse  science  of  the  law,  which  afterward 
attracted  him  toward  that  profession  as  his  chief  employ 
ment  in  the  future.  But  it  will  doubtless  clearly  appear 
to  every  reflecting  mind  that  such  a  course  of  instruction 
as  that  which  was  thus  suggested  to  young  Webster  was 
pernicious,  because  it  was  badly  arranged.  He  had  not 
yet  received  the  most  necessary  and  essential  amount  of 
elementary  instruction ;  and  this  was  absolutely  requisite 
to  fit  him  for  the  attainment  of  higher  and  more  ultimate 
professional  knowledge.  Accordingly,  it  was  resolved  by 
his  parents  that  he  should  be  sent  to  an  academy,  not 
indeed  to  prepare  him  for  the  further  study  of  the  law,  but  to 
fit  him  to  act  as  a  school-teacher  as  the  future  business  of 
his  life.  Accordingly,  on  the  24th  of  May,  1796,  young 
Webster  set  out  on  horseback  for  Phillips  Academy  at 
Exeter,  in  the  county  of  Rockingham,  in  his  native  State, 
to  pursue  a  course  of  academical  study.  This  was  the 
most  celebrated  institution  of  the  kind  then  in  New  Eng 
land.  He  rode  thither  on  a  side-saddle  placed  upon  a 
horse  intended  for  the  use  of  a  lady  in  Exeter,  and  his 
appearance  was  not  the  most  attractive.  His  outward 

2 


14  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES 

bodily  traits  were  also  by  no  means  pleasing.  He  seemed 
to  be  a  person  destined  soon  to  become  the  victim  of  con 
sumption  ;  nor  would  any  intelligent  observer  have  pre 
dicted  for  him  a  long  life,  any  more  than  he  would  have 
guaranteed  him  an  illustrious  career.  He  was  accom 
panied  to  Exeter  by  his  father.  Appearing  in  the  presence 
of  Dr.  Benjamin  Abbot,  the  president  of  the  academy, 
that  pompous  but  able  official  questioned  the  timid  lad 
severely  as  to  his  previous  studies ;  and  after  these  in 
quiries  were  satisfactorily  answered,  he  ordered  him  to 
read  a  passage  from  the  Bible.  It  was  the  twenty-second 
chapter  of  Luke.  Young  Daniel  had  been  taught  to  read 
or  recite  with  great  impressiveness  by  his  intelligent 
mother ;  and  he  acquitted  himself  so  admirably  on  this 
occasion  that  he  at  once  gained  the  friendly  regard  of  the 
pedagogical  potentate,  and  was  received  as  a  pupil.  "Young 
man,"  said  the  latter,  with  a  solemn,  dictatorial  emphasis 
which  we  may  imagine  but  not  describe,  "you  are  qualified 
to  enter  this  institution  !" 

"Webster  remained  at  Phillips  Academy  during  nine 
months.  He  was  in  truth  a  hard  student.  He  rapidly 
acquired  a  vast  amount  of  information.  His  preceptor, 
Dr.  Abbot,  declared  in  after-years  that  he  never  knew  a 
boy  whoso  power  of  amassing  and  retaining  knowledge 
equalled  that  of  young  Webster.  He  was  especially  facile 
and  apt  in  the  comprehension  and  acquisition  of  principles ; 
and  in  nine  months  he  accomplished  as  much  as  most 
youths  would  have  done  in  two  years.  His  health  was 
still  feeble.  He  seemed  to  have  a  head  far  too  large 
and  ponderous  for  his  feeble  body.  But  he  impressed 
every  one  connected  with  the  institution  with  his  superior 
intellectual  powers.  From  Exeter  he  returned  home,  and 
commenced  to  teach  school.  His  father's  means  being 
limited,  he  wished  to  earn  something  for  himself,  and  to 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  15 

deliberate  upon  his  future  plans  of  life.  He  was  younger 
than  many  of  his  pupils ;  yet  he  was  amply  qualified  to 
impart  to  them  the  most  valuable  instruction.  He  was 
popular  as  a  teacher  both  among  his  scholars  and  with 
their  parents  and  friends ;  and  he  might  perhaps  have  con 
tinued  to  labor  in  this  humble  sphere  during  some  years, 
had  not  a  propitious  circumstance  seemed  accidentally  to 
rescue  him  from  the  obscurity  to  which  it  would  have  con 
signed  him. 


16  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 


CHAPTER  II. 

Webster's  Intercourse  with  Dr.  Samuel  Wood — He  prepares  himself  for 
College — He  enters  Dartmouth  College — His  Habits  and  Pursuits — • 
He  delivers  a  Fourth-of-July  Oration — Extract  from  it — He  completes 
his  Collegiate  Course — His  Speech  at  graduating. 

AT  this  period  the  Rev.  Samuel  Wood,  LL.D.,  a  clergy 
man  of  talents  and  learning,  and  possessing  an  especially 
generous  nature,  removed  to  Boscawen,  a  short  distance 
from  Salisbury,  the  residence  of  young  Webster.  He  was 
a  graduate  of  Dartmouth  College ;  and  one  of  his  most 
amiable  qualities  was  the  deep  interest  which  he  took  in 
the  advancement  of  youths  who  exhibited  superior  mental 
powers,  or  who  seemed  anxious  to  attain  knowledge  and 
distinction.  An  elective  affinity  soon  attracted  him  to 
young  Webster ;  and  in  a  short  time  he  felt  a  deep  con 
cern  in  his  welfare.  Daniel  became  a  pupil  of  Dr.  Wood, 
and  remained  several  months  under  his  tuition.  He  would 
have  continued  doubtless  much  longer,  had  not  a  benevolent 
plan  been  conceived  by  his  tutor  in  reference  to  him.  He 
discovered  what  an  intellectual  gem  of  the  first  magnitude 
and  of  the  purest  water  lay  embedded  in  the  person  of  his 
gifted  scholar;  and  he  determined  that  it  should  not  always 
remain  hidden  in  the  "  dark  unfathomed  caves"  of  the 
ocean  of  obscurity  where  it  then  lay.  He  conversed  with 
Daniel's  father  on  the  subject,  and  urged  upon  him  the 
importance  of  sending  his  talented  son  to  Dartmouth 
College.  The  proposition  at  first  startled  him.  That  was 
a  bold  and  ambitious  venture  for  his  favorite  son,  which 
he  had  never  anticipated,  and  scarce  even  then  dared  to 
contemplate.  Though  he  then  possessed  a  large  tract  ?f 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  17 

land,  which  in  the  progress  of  time  would  become  valuable, 
yet  at  that  moment  it  was  but  little  productive.  His  means 
therefore  were  limited,  and  his  family  was  large.  On  the 
other  hand,  parental  pride  and  affection  pleaded  loudly  in 
favor  of  the  measure.  At  length,  after  much  deliberation  and 
a  desperate  struggle,  it  was  determined  that  Daniel  should 
be  sent  to  Dartmouth.  When  first  informed  of  this  im 
portant  and  decisive  step  by  his  father  while  riding  with 
him  in  a  rude  sleigh  in  a  remote  and  snow-covered  part  of 
the  country,  the  emotions  of  the  lad  were  too  great  for 
utterance.  At  one  moment  he  wept,  and  at  another  ex 
ulted,  and  expressed  his  joy  and  gratitude  to  his  father  in 
feeling  terms  ;  for  he  well  knew  that  no  small  sacrifices 
would  be  necessary  on  the  part  of  his  parent  to  enable  him 
to  carry  out  this  resolution. 

Daniel  immediately  commenced  to  prepare  himself  for 
his  removal  to  the  college.  He  arrived  at  Hanover  at  the 
moment  when  the  Faculty  of  the  institution  were  engaged 
in  examining  candidates  for  admission  to  the  Freshman 
class.  No  time  was  to  be  lost;  and  young  "Webster, 
covered  with  mud,  drenched  with  rain,  and  presenting  in 
every  respect  a  most  unfavorable  aspect,  was  called  upon 
to  undergo  the  terrible  ordeal.  His  appearance  was 
singular  indeed.  The  rain  had  completely  saturated  his 
suit  of  blue  clothes,  which  had  been  woven,  made,  and 
dyed  at  home,  and  the  fugitive  colors  had  in  some  measure 
been  transferred  to  his  person.  He  was  then  not  only  de 
serving  of  the  epithet  of  "Black  Dan,"  but  also  of  "Blue 
Dan."  Notwithstanding  his  repulsive  appearance,  he 
passed  a  favorable  examination,  and  was  admitted  to  the 
Freshman  class.  Dr.  John  Wheelock  was  then  president, 
whose  kindly  regard  toward  the  young  applicant  had  been 
procured  by  the  friendly  influence  and  interposition  of 
Dr.  Wood. 

2* 


18  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES 

During  Webster's  residence  at  Dartmouth  College  he 
was  studious,  orderly  and  industrious.  It  has  long  been 
the  fashion  of  common  and  vulgar  report  to  represent  hia 
conduct  at  this  time  differently;  and  thousands  of  idle  and 
worthless  juveniles,  who  have  wasted  and  squandered  the 
inestimable  advantages  of  early  education  which  were 
offered  them,  and  frequently  almost  forced  upon  them, 
have  excused  their  fatal  follies  and  neglect  of  their  oppor 
tunities  by  the  supposed  example  of  young  Webster. 
Nothing  could  be  more  erroneous  and  preposterous  than 
the  supposition  that  he  was  idle  and  negligent  of  his 
studies  while  at  college.  His  teachers  at  the  institution 
boldly  predicted  his  future  eminence  ;  nor  would  they  have 
done  this  had  his  conduct  not  then  been  worthy  of  ad 
miration  and  applause.  He  did  not  excel  in  Greek  and 
mathematics  :  for  these  branches  he  exhibited  but  little 
fondness.  But  every  other  department  of  academical 
learning,  especially  logic,  psychology,  moral  philosophy, 
and  all  those  sciences  which  particularly  require  grasp  and 
profundity  of  thought,  he  mastered  with  facility.  When  in 
his  seventeenth  year,  in  1800,  he  was  invited  by  the  citizens 
of  Hanover  to  deliver  a  Fourth-of-July  oration.  He  ac 
cepted  the  invitation,  which  was  itself  a  mark  of  honor, 
and  delivered  the  first  of  his  speeches,  of  which  a  record 
has  been  transmitted  to  posterity.  It  was  entitled  "  An 
Oration  pronounced  at  Hanover,  New  Hampshire,  on  the 
4th  of  July,  1800,  being  the  Twenty-Fourth  Anniversary 
of  American  Independence,  by  Daniel  Webster,  member 
of  the  Junior  Class,  Dartmouth  University."  It  was  pub 
lished  by  the  request  of  the  subscribers,  and  printed  at 
Hanover  by  Moses  David,  shortly  after  its  delivery.  That 
the  reader  may  form  an  idea  of  the  style  of  the  youthful 
orator,  we  will  quote  an  extract  from  this  singular  yet 
meritorious  production : 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  19 

"  No  sooner  was  peace  restored  with  England  (the  first 
grand  article  of  which  was  the  acknowledgment  of  our 
Independence)  than  the  old  system  of  Confederation, 
dictated  at  first  by  necessity,  and  adopted  for  the  pur 
poses  of  the  moment,  was  found  inadequate  to  the  govern 
ment  of  an  extensive  empire.  Under  a  full  conviction 
of  this,  we  then  saw  the  people  of  these  States  engaged  in 
a  transaction  which  is  undoubtedly  the  greatest  approxima 
tion  toward  human  perfection  the  political  world  ever  yet 
witnessed,  and  which,  perhaps,  will  forever  stand  in  the 
history  of  mankind  without  a  parallel.  A  great  Republic, 
composed  of  different  States,  whose  interest  in  all  respects 
could  not  be  perfectly  compatible,  then  came  deliberately 
forward,  discarded  one  system  of  government  and  adopted 
another,  without  the  loss  of  one  man's  blood. 

"  There  is  not  a  single  Government  now  existing  in 
Europe  which  is  not  based  in  usurpation,  and  established, 
if  established  at  all,  by  the  sacrifice  of  thousands.  But 
in  the  adoption  of  our  present  system  of  jurisprudence 
we  see  the  powers  necessary  for  government  voluntarily 
flowing  from  the  people,  their  only  proper  origin,  and 
directed  to  the  public -good,  their  only  proper  object. 

"  With  peculiar  propriety  we  may  now  felicitate  our 
selves  on  that  happy  form  of  mixed  government  under 
which  we  live.  The  advantages  resulting  to  the  citizens 
of  the  Union  are  utterly  incalculable,  and  the  day  when 
it  was  received  by  a  majority  of  the  States  shall  stand  on 
the  catalogue  of  American  anniversaries  second  to  none 
but  the  birthday  of  Independence. 

"  In  consequence  of  the  adoption  of  our  present  system 
of  government,  and  the  virtuous  manner  in  which  it  was 
administered  by  a  Washington  and  an  Adams,  we  are  this 
day  in  the  enjoyment  of  peace,  while  war  devastates 
Europe  !  We  can  now  sit  down  beneath  the  shadow  of 


<iO  HIE    LIFE    AND   TIMES 

the  olive,  while  her  cities  blaze,  her  streams  run  purple 
with  blood,  and  her  fields  glitter  with  a  forest  of  bayonets ! 
The  citizens  of  America  can  this  day  throng  the  temples 
of  freedom  and  renew  their  oaths  of  fealty  to  independ 
ence,  while  Holland,  our  once  sister  Republic,  is  erased 
from  the  catalogue  of  nations ;  while  Venice  is  destroyed, 
Italy  ravaged,  and  Switzerland — the  once  happy,  the 
once  united,  the  once  flourishing  Switzerland — lies  bleed 
ing  at  every  pore ! 

"  No  ambitious  foe  dares  now  invade  our  country.  No 
standing  army  now  endangers  our  liberty.  Our  com 
merce,  though  subject  in  some  degree  to  the  depredations 
of  belligerent  powers,  is  extended  from  pole  to  pole ;  our 
navy,  though  just  emerging  from  non-existence,  shall  soon 
vouch  for  the  safety  of  our  merchantmen,  and  bear  the 
thunder  of  freedom  around  the  ball.  Fair  Science,  too, 
holds  her  gentle  empire  amongst  us,  and  almost  innu 
merable  altars  are  raised  to  her  divinity,  from  Brunswick 
to  Florida.  Yale,  Providence,  and  Harvard  now  grace 
our  land;  and  Dartmouth,  towering  majestic  above  the 
groves  which  encircle  her,  now  inscribes  her  glory  on  the 
registers  of  fame !  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  those  Oriental 
stars  of  literature,  shall  now  be  outshone  by  the  bright 
sun  of  American  science,  which  displays  his  broad  circum 
ference  in  uneclipsed  radiance. 

"  Pleasing,  indeed,  were  it  here  to  dilate  on  the  future 
grandeur  of  America ;  but  we  forbear,  and  pause  for  a 
moment  to  drop  the  tear  of  affection  over  the  graves  of 
our  departed  warriors.  Their  names  should  be  mentioned 
on  every  anniversary  of  Independence,  that  the  youth  of 
each  successive  generation  may  learn  not  to  value  life 
when  held  in  competition  with  their  country's  safety. 

"  Wooster,  Montgomery,  and  Mercer  fell  bravely  in 
battle,  and  their  ashes  are  now  entombed  on  the  fields 


OF  DANIEL   WEBSTER.  21 

that  witnessed  their  valor.  Let  their  exertions  in  our 
country's  cause  be  remembered  while  liberty  has  an  ad 
vocate  and  gratitude  has  a  place  in  the  human  heart. 

"  Greene,  the  immortal  hero  of  the  Carolinas,  has  since 
gone  down  to  the  grave,  loaded  with  honors,  and  high  in 
the  estimation  of  his  countrymen.  The  courageous  Putnam 
has  long  slept  with  his  fathers  ;  and  Sullivan  and  Cilley, 
New  Hampshire's  veteran  sons,  are  no  more  remembered 
with  the  living. 

"  With  hearts  penetrated  by  unutterable  grief,  we  are 
at  length  constrained  to  ask,  Where  is  our  Washington? 
where  the  hero  who  led  us  to  victory?  where  the  man 
who  gave  us  freedom  ?  where  is  he  who  headed  our  feeble 
army  when  destruction  threatened  us,  who  came  upon 
our  enemies  like  the  storms  of  winter  and  scattered  them 
like  leaves  before  the  Borean  blast  ?  Where,  0  my 
country,  is  thy  political  savior?  where,  0  humanity,  thy 
favorite  son  ? 

"  The  solemnity  of  this  assembly,  the  lamentations  of 
the  American  people,  will  answer,  '  Alas !  he  is  now  no 
more  !  the  mighty  is  fallen  !' 

"  Yes,  Americans,  Washington  is  gone !  he  is  now  con 
signed  to  dust  and  sleeps  in  ;  dull,  cold  marble !' 

"  The  man  who  never  felt  a  wound  but  when  it  pierced 
his  country — who  never  groaned  but  when  fair  freedom 
bled — is  now  forever  silent ! 

"  Wrapped  in  the  shroud  of  death,  the  dark  dominions 
of  the  grave  long  since  received  him,  and  he  rests  in  un 
disturbed  repose  !  Vain  were  the  attempt  to  express  our 
loss, — vain  the  attempt  to  describe  the  feelings  of  our 
souls  !  Though  months  have  rolled  away  since  his  spirit 
left  this  terrestrial  orb  and  sought  the  shining  worlds  on 
high,  yet  the  sad  event  is  still  remembered  with  increased 
sorrow.  The  hoary-headed  patriot  of  76  still  tells  the 


22  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

mournful  story  to  the  listening  infant,  till  the  loss  of  his 
country  touches  his  heart  and  patriotism  fires  his  breast. 
The  aged  matron  still  laments  the  loss  of  the  man  beneath 
whose  banners  her  husband  has  fought  or  her  son  has 
fallen.  At  the  name  of  Washington,  the  sympathetic 
tear  still  glistens  in  the  eye  of  every  youthful  hero.  Nor 
does  the  tender  sigh  yet  cease  to  heave  in  the  fair  bosom 
of  Columbia's  daughters. 

'  Farewell,  0  Washington,  a  long  farewell ! 
Thy  country's  tears  embalm  thy  memory ; 
Thy  virtues  challenge  immortality ; 
Impress'd  on  grateful  hearts,  thy  name  shall  live 
Till  dissolution's  deluge  drown  the  world.'" 

During  Webster's  fourth  year  in  college  he  studied  par 
ticularly  intellectual  philosophy,  ethics,  and  international 
law;  while  at  the  same  time  he  paid  special  attention 
to  his  improvement  in  oratory.  For  this  noble  and 
masterly  art  he  seemed  to  have,  from  an  early  period,  a 
very  strong  predilection,  and  at  a  precocious  age  gave 
evidence  of  a  future  distinction  in  it.  He  perused  the  great 
masters  of  ancient  and  modern  eloquence  with  intense 
interest,  and  endeavored  to  imitate  some  of  their  qualities. 
At  length  the  end  of  his  academical  career  arrived.  Four 
studious  years  had  Webster  spent  at  Dartmouth ;  and  each 
advancing  month  gave  proof  of  his  constant  and  rapid 
progress.  On  commencement-day  he  delivered  an  oration 
on  "  Natural  Science,"  dwelling  chiefly  on  the  then  re 
cent  and  remarkable  discoveries  of  Lavoisier  in  chemistry. 
Why  he  selected  so  dry  and  abstract  a  theme  for  the  sub 
ject  of  a  speech  on  such  an  occasion,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
conjecture.  It  is  probable  that  the  distribution  of  themes 
among  the  other  members  of  the  graduating  class  may  have 
been  such  as  to  render  that  subject  desirable  or  even 
necessary  on  his  part.  He  graduated  on  the  26th  of 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  23 

August,  1801,  and  was  then  prepared  to  look  abroad  upon 
the  great  world  for  a  wider  and  more  important  sphere  of 
activity  in  the  future ;  and  we  may  truly  add,  that  never 
did  a  stronger  intellectual  giant  brace  himself  to  the  per 
formance  of  any  difficult  and  noble  task  than  was  he 
when  he  turned  his  back  on  the  cherished  and  beloved 
shades  of  Dartmouth  to  engage  in  other  and  far  different 
scenes. 


24  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 


CHAPTER  III. 

Webster  continues  the  Study  of  the  Law — He  becomes  Principal  of 
Fryeburg  Academy — Mr.  Fessenden — His  Further  Studies  with  Mr. 
Thompson — His  Removal  to  Boston — Christopher  Gore — The  Offered 
Clerkship — Webster's  Admission  to  the  Bar — Commences  Practice  at 
Boscawen — His  Removal  to  Portsmouth — His  Marriage — His  First 
Term  in  Congress. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER  had  now  resolved  to  devote  himself  to 
the  legal  profession  as  his  pursuit  through  life ;  and  ac 
cordingly  he  entered  his  name  as  a  student  of  law  in  the 
office  of  Thomas  W.  Thompson,  immediately  after  his  return 
from  college  to  Salisbury.  Yet  at  this  time  his  means  were 
so  limited  that  he  felt  the  necessity  of  endeavoring  to 
earn  something  for  himself ;  and  he  therefore  began  to  look 
about  for  an  engagement  in  his  old  craft  of  school-teach 
ing, — the  usual  resort  of  necessitous  youths  of  talent  both 
then  and  in  later  times.  Through  the  recommendation  of 
a  friend,  he  was  invited  to  take  charge  of  an  academy  then 
vacant  at  Fryeburg,  in  Maine.  He  commenced  his  labors 
in  this  capacity  in  January,  1803,  and  continued  them 
during  nine  months.  The  great  statesman  subsequently 
described  his  entry  into  the  scene  of  his  future  achieve 
ments  as  a  pedagogue,  in  the  following  language.  Said  he, 
"At  that  time  I  was  a  youth  not  quite  twenty  years  of  age, 
with  a  slender  frame  of  less  than  one  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds'  weight.  On  deciding  to  go,  my  father  gave  me 
rather  an  ordinary  horse,  and  after  making  the  journey 
from  Salisbury  upon  his  back,  I  was  to  dispose  of  him  to 
the  best  of  my  judgment,  for  my  own  benefit.  Imme 


OF   DANIEL    WEBSTER.  25 

diately  on  my  arrival,  I  called  upon  you,*  stating  that  I 
would  sell  the  horse  for  forty  dollars,  and  requesting  your 
aid  in  his  disposal.  You  replied  that  he  was  worth  more, 
and  gave  ine  an  obligation  for  a  larger  sum,  and  in  a  few 
days  succeeded  in  making  a  sale  for  me  at  the  advanced 
price.  I  well  remember  that  the  purchaser  lived  about 
three  miles  from  the  village,  and  that  his  name  was  James 
Walker.  I  suppose  he  has  long  since  deceased."  On  being 
told  that  he  was  still  living,  he  said,  with  great  heartiness : 
"  Please  give  him  my  best  respects." 

Among  the  intimate  associates  of  Webster  at  Fryeburg 
was  the  Rev.  William  Fessenden,  whose  personal  qualities 
fitted  him  in  every  respect  to  be  the  companion  of  so 
remarkable  a  youth,  and  whose  large  and  well-selected 
library  opened  to  him  rare  and  valuable  treasures  of  know 
ledge.  Though  he  was  much  older  than  the  young  peda 
gogue,  he  found  much  congeniality  in  his  society;  and 
their  conversations  on  the  gravest  questions  of  history  and 
philosophy  were  frequent  and  protracted,  and  were  doubt 
less  promotive  of  the  improvement  of  both. 

Wrhen  at  length  Webster  resigned  his  post,  he  received 
a  vote  of  thanks  from  the  trustees,  in  addition  to  his  salary, 
setting  forth  the  industry  and  ability  with  which  he  had 
performed  his  duties.  After  a  brief  tour  of  travel  for  the 
benefit  of  his  health,  he  returned  to  Salisbury  and  entered 
himself  regularly  as  a  student  of  law  in  the  office  of  his 
former  friend,  Mr.  Thompson.  With  him  he  remained 
during  eighteen  months,  devoting  himself  most  assiduously 
to  the  attainment  of  professional  knowledge.  Though  his 
preceptor  was  a  man  of  very  competent  attainments  for 
the  place  which  he  filled,  he  was  far  below  the  grade  of 
young  Webster's  aspirations ;  and  the  latter  now  felt  a  dis- 


Addressed  to  Mr.  Robert  Bradley,  of  New  Hampshire. 
3 


26  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 

position  to  look  elsewhere  for  a  more  learned  and  accom 
plished  instructor.  He  naturally  turned  his  thoughts 
toward  Boston,  then,  as  now,  regarded  as  the  capital  of 
JSTew  England.  Among  the  lawyers  who  at  that  time  held 
an  eminent  position  at  that  bar  was  the  Hon.  Christopher 
Gore ;  and  him  Webster  selected  as  his  professional  tutor. 

Mr.  Gore  was  every  way  worthy  of  this  preference.  He 
was  a  native  of  Boston,  a  graduate  of  Harvard  University, 
and  had  entered  upon  the  practice  of  the  law  soon  after  the 
opening  of  the  courts  which  followed  the  proclamation  of 
peace  in  1783.  He  was  appointed  by  Washington  the  first 
United  States  District  Attorney  for  the  District  of  Massa 
chusetts,  and  was  subsequently  made  a  commissioner  with 
William  Pinckney,  under  the  seventh  article  of  Jay's 
treaty  with  England,  to  reside  in  England.  After  his 
return  to  Boston  he  was  elected  Governor  of  Massachusetts, 
and  Senator  in  Congress  from  his  native  State.  A  man  of 
such  ability  was  a  fit  instructor  for  the  aspiring  and 
enlarging  intellect  of  young  Webster ;  and  it  is  a  circum 
stance  which  is  recorded  greatly  to  his  praise  that  he  soon 
discerned  the  superior  intellectual  power  which  his  pupil 
possessed,  and  admitted  him  to  terms  of  familiarity  and 
equality  of  intercourse  which  were  rarely  permitted  to 
others  under  similar  circumstances,  and  which  conferred 
very  great  credit  upon  both  of  them. 

Mr.  Webster  remained  in  the  office  of  Governor  Gore 
from  July,  1804,  till  March,  1805,  assiduously  pursuing  his 
studies  and  devoting  his  attention  more  particularly  to  the 
higher  and  more  abstruse  branches  of  the  law.  He  also 
made  himself  familiar  with  a  wide  range  of  English  history ; 
being  persuaded,  as  every  intelligent  jurist  must  be,  that 
law  is  in  itself  in  a  great  measure  an  historical  science, 
and  that  no  one  can  be  a  master  in  it  who  is  not  acquainted 
with  the  annals  of  the  English  nation  and  the  gradual  de- 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  27 

velopment  and  consolidation  of  English  common  law.  So 
ardent  and  protracted  were  Mr.  Webster's  studies  that  his 
health  began  to  be  affected  by  it,  and  the  relaxation  of 
travelling  became  necessary  for  him.  Accordingly,  accom 
panied  by  Mr.  Baldwin,  an  intelligent  citizen  of  Boston,  he 
journeyed  in  the  autumn  of  1804  through  a  portion  of  New 
England  and  New  York.  He  stopped  a  short  time  at 
Albany,  and  was  courteously  received  and  entertained  by 
the  Schuylers  and  Van  Rensselaers,  the  social  magnates 
of  the  place.  He  impressed  all  whom  he  met  with  a  con 
viction  of  his  superior  mental  powers. 

Having  returned  to  Boston,  he  resumed  his  legal  studies ; 
and  soon  an  incident  occurred  which  displayed  in  a  clear 
and  convincing  light  his  stability  of  character  and  his 
resolution  of  purpose.  His  father's  estate  was  at  that 
time  considerably  embarrassed  with  debt ;  and  that  debt 
had  been  chiefly  incurred  by  his  efforts  to  support  his  sons 
Daniel  and  Ezekiel  during  their  collegiate  studies.  A 
pecuniary  obligation  in  that  day,  when  imprisonment  for 
debt  was  still  the  disgrace  and  stigma  of  the  law  of  the 
land,  was  a  very  serious  matter ;  and  it  was  natural  that 
his  incumbrances  should  be  the  cause  of  much  anxiety  to 
Webster's  father,  and  that  he  should  use  his  utmost  en 
deavors  to  be  released  from  the  oppressive  burden.  In 
pursuance  of  this  purpose,  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  for 
his  son  Daniel  the  appointment  of  clerk  to  the  Court  of 
Common  Pleas  in  his  native  county ;  an  office  which  was 
worth  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  a  large  portion  of  which 
could  be  appropriated  to  the  liquidation  of  the  father's 
debts.  He  immediately  wrote  to  Daniel,  informing  him  of 
his  good  fortune,  and  requiring  him  to  return  at  once  to 
Salisbury  to  enter  upon  the  duties  of  his  new  office. 

This  proposition  was  a  sudden  blow  to  all  the  ambitious 
aspirings  of  the  young  student.  To  relinquish  his  cherished 


28  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES 

and  chosen  profession,  and  the  hopes  which  were  connected 
with  it,  would  have  been  a  sad  calamity  indeed ;  yet  he  was 
affectionately  attached  to  his  father,  and  he  would  be 
willing  to  make  almost  any  sacrifice  to  promote  his  inte 
rests.  A  terrible  struggle  ensued  in  the  mind  of  young 
Webster.  He  carefully  weighed  all  the  considerations 
which  appertained  to  each  side  of  the  question.  At  length 
he  started  homeward,  reached  his  father's  house,  and  hur 
ried  into  his  presence.  It  was  not  long  before  the  latter 
discovered  that  Daniel  did  not  regard  the  proffered  post 
with  much  approbation  ;  and  at  length  he  positively  refused 
to  abandon  his  profession  and  subside  into  the  obscurity  of 
court  clerk.  The  old  man  was  astonished  and  greatly 
offended.  He  used  every  argument  to  overcome  the  resolu 
tion  of  his  ambitious  son  ;  but  he  reasoned  in  vain.  At  last 
Daniel,  having  expressed  his  determination  to  return  to  Bos 
ton,  poured  into  the  lap  of  his  astonished  father  the  sum  in 
gold  which  was  necessary  to  liquidate  all  his  debts  and  set 
his  mind  at  rest.  The  joy  produced  by  this  unexpected 
good  fortune  may  readily  be  imagined  ;  and  Daniel  then 
explained  how  a  generous  friend  in  Boston,  to  whom  he 
had  stated  his  dilemma,  named  Emery,  had  kindly  offered 
to  lend  him  the  money,  which  offer  he  had  thankfully 
accepted. 

After  this  pleasing  incident,  young  Webster  returned  to 
Boston  and  completed  his  studies.  He  was  admitted  to 
the  bar  after  a  rigid  examination  in  March,  1805.  On 
making  the  motion  to  that  effect,  Mr.  Gore  added,  con 
trary  to  the  usual  custom,  a  eulogy  on  the  abilities  and 
deserts  of  his  pupil.  The  next  point  to  be  decided  was, 
where  the  newly-fledged  lawyer  should  settle  and  com 
mence  his  professional  career.  Many  considerations 
plead  in  favor  of  his  remaining  in  Boston.  His  friends 
in  that  city  urged  him  to  do  so,  and  tendered  him  their 


OF    DANIEL    WEBSTER.  29 

Influence  and  patronage.  One  firm  offered  him  a  collecting 
business  amounting*  to  thirty  thousand  dollars.  Boston 
was  a  theatre  admirably  fitted  for  the  future  exercise  of 
his  talents.  But  other  and  stronger  considerations  in 
duced  him  to  bury  himself  in  the  quiet  obscurity  of  a 
remote  village  of  New  Hampshire.  He  desired  to  be  near 
his  aged  father ;  and  that  motive,  more  than  any  other, 
induced  him  to  desert  the  brilliant  career  which  Boston 
offered  him,  and  return  to  his  native  spot.  He  did  so,  and 
opened  an  office  in  the  neighboring  village  of  Boscawen, 
where  his  window  was  decorated  by  the  unpretending  sign 
of  "Z>.  Webster,  Attorney."  Thus,  in  March,  1805,  when 
twenty-three  years  old,  and  after  nine  years  of  preparatory 
study,  did  this  great  man  commence  his  public  career.  It 
will  readily  be  supposed  that  he  soon  began  to  attract 
attention  and  to  gain  practice.  His  first  case  was  tried  in 
the  presence  of  his  father,  who  still  sat  upon  the  bench  as 
an  Associate  Judge.  It  is  said  that  his  abilities  as  a 
speaker  gained  him  the  admiration  of  his  contemporaries  at 
the  commencement  of  his  career,  and  that  his  future  emi 
nence  was  immediately  predicted.  In  two  years  after  his 
admission  to  the  bar,  his  fame  extended  throughout  the 
whole  of  his  native  State ;  and  among  the  hundred  lawyers 
who  at  that  time  lived  and  practised  in  it  he  was  already 
regarded  as  one  of  the  ablest.  He  was  remarkable  for 
the  care  with  which  he  prepared  his  cases,  as  well  as  for 
the  ability  with  which  he  tried  them.  In  arguing  disputed 
points  of  law  and  of  evidence,  in  the  examination  of  wit 
nesses,  and  in  addresses  to  the  jury,  he  displayed  superior 
ability.  His  father  died  a  short  time  after  he  commenced 
practice ;  and  hence  the  strongest  motive  which  attracted 
him  to  his  obscure  home  was  withdrawn.  Accordingly,  after 
a  residence  of  two  years  at  Boscawen,  Mr.  Webster  re 
moved  to  Portsmouth  for  the  purpose  of  entering  upon  a 


30  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 

more  extended  and  more  appropriate  sphere.  This  was 
the  largest  and  most  important  city  in  the  State,  and  it 
numbered  among  its  resident  lawyers  several  men  of 
great  eminence  and  ability.  Among  these  were  Jeremiah 
Mason  and  Jeremiah  Smith,  who  soon  discovered  the  great 
talents  of  the  new-comer,  and  accorded  to  him  that  con 
sideration  and  courtesy  which  he  deserved.  Mr.  Webster's 
professional  prospects  rapidly  brightened,  and  he  soon 
obtained  a  large  and  lucrative  practice,  though  surrounded 
by  competitors  of  no  mean  ability,  and  possessed  of  the 
advantages  of  patronage  and  local  influence. 

On  the  llth  of  June,  1808,  an  important  event  occurred 
in  the  life  of  this  remarkable  man.  It  was  his  marriage 
to  a  young  lady  to  whom  he  had  become  attached,  the 
daughter  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Fletcher,  of  Hopkinton,  and  a 
person  of  great  beauty,  intelligence  and  amiability.  In  an 
old  newspaper  which  is  long  since  defunct  forever,  named 
the  Portsmouth  Oracle,  this  event  is  thus  very  briefly 
narrated  :  "  Married,  in  Salisbury,  Daniel  Webster,  Esq., 
of  this  town,  to  Miss  Grace  Fletcher."  Few  matrimonial 
alliances  have  ever  been  contracted  which  were  productive 
of  a  greater  degree  of  domestic  happiness  than  this. 

Very  few  incidents  deserving  of  note  occurred  to  Mr. 
Webster  during  the  four  years  which  elapsed  from  his 
marriage  till  the  period  when  he  entered  the  political 
arena.  That  interval  was  industriously  filled  up  by  his 
close  attention  to  his  professional  pursuits.  His  reputa 
tion  as  a  lawyer  was  gradually  rising  higher  and  higher ; 
so  that  his  services  were  in  constant  requisition,  and  some 
times  at  distant  places.  He  soon  became  the  most  pro 
minent  and  distinguished  citizen  of  Portsmouth  ;  and,  as 
such,  it  was  very  natural  that  he  should  be  drawn  into  the 
vortex  of  political  life.  He  resisted  this  tendency  for 
some  time,  till  at  length,  in  November,  1812,  he  was 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  31 

placed  in  nomination  for  a  seat  in  Congress,  with  his  con 
sent, — an  honor  which  he  had  declined  on  several  previous 
occasions.  He  belonged  to  what  was  then  known  as  the 
Federal  party,  and  the  crisis  which  occurred  at  that  time 
wras  of  more  than  usual  importance  arid  difficulty.  The 
embargo  and  the  war  with  England  had  resulted  most 
disastrously  to  the  commerce  and  the  interests  of  New 
England.  Mr.  Webster  wras  nominated  and  voted  for  as 

o 

the  representative  and  advocate  of  peace  and  free-trade. 
As  such  he  was  elected  to  represent  the  district  to  which 
Portsmouth  belonged.* 

According  to  the  usual  operation  of  law,  Mr.  Webster 
would  not  have  taken  his  seat  in  Congress  until  the  Decem 
ber  of  the  following  year ;  but  the  imminence  of  the 
crisis  had  induced  the  President,  Mr.  Madison,  to  sum 
mon  an  extra  session,  which  commenced  its  sitting  in 
May,  1813.  At  the  appropriate  time  the  new  repre 
sentative  began  his  journey  toward  the  Federal  capital. 
He  took  his  seat  for  the  first  time  in  that  hall  which 
was  destined  so  often  afterward  to  be  the  scene  of  his 
magnificent  displays  of  talent,  on  the  24th  of  May,  1813. 
The  first  committee  of  which  he  was  appointed  a  mem 
ber  was  that  on  Foreign  Affairs ;  and  with  him  were 
associated  such  men  as  Calhoun,  Grundy,  Jackson  of 

*  The  following  interesting  relic  of  the  past  will  show  the  state  of 
parties  and  the  names  of  candidates  as  they  existed  at  that  time  in  that 
portion  of  the  Confederacy : 


THE    WEBSTER    TICKET. 


Daniel  Webster 18,597 

Bradbury  Cilley 18,595 

William  Hale 18,583 


Samuel  Smith 18,569 

Ropcer  Voss 18,611 

Jeduthun  Wilcox 18,478 


OPPOSITION    TICKET. 


John  F.  Parrott. 16,051 

John  II.  Harper 15,985 

David  L.  Morrill 16,060 

Samuel  Lmsmoor 15,996 


Jesse  Johnson 15,927 

Josiah  Butler 15;764 

Number  of  Scattering ^     784 


32  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

Virginia,  and  Fish  of  New  York.  Nor  did  he  long  remain 
a  silent  member  of  the  House.  On  the  10th  of  June, 
after  occupying  his  seat  about  two  weeks,  he  rose  and 
offered  a  series  of  resolutions,  which  sifted  the  matter  of 
the  war,  then  under  deliberation,  to  the  bottom.  As  these 
resolutions  possess  more  than  ordinary  interest  as  the 
first  public  effort  of  Mr.  Webster  in  the  Congress  of  his 
country,  we  will  here  insert  them  : 

"  Resolved,  That  the  President  of  the  United  States  be 
requested  to  inform  this  House,  unless  the  public  interest 
should,  in  his  opinion,  forbid  such  communication,  when, 
by  whom,  and  in  what  manner  the  first  intelligence  was 
given  to  this  Government  of  the  decree  of  the  Govern 
ment  of  France,  bearing  date  the  28th  of  April,  1811, 
and  purporting  to  be  a  definite  repeal  of  the  decrees  of 
Berlin  and  Milan. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  President  of  the  United  States  be 
requested  to  inform  this  House  whether  Mr.  Russell,  late 
Charge  d1  Affaires  of  the  United  States  at  the  Court  of 
France,  hath  ever  admitted  or  denied  to  his  Government 
the  correctness  of  the  declaration  of  the  Duke  of  Bassano 
to  Mr.  Barlow,  the  late  minister  of  the  United  States  at 
that  court,  as  stated  in  Mr.  Barlow's  letter  of  the  12th  of 
May,  1812,  to  the  Secretaiy  of  State,  that  the  said  decree 
of  April  28th,  1811,  had  been  communicated  to  his  (Mr. 
Barlow's)  predecessor  there  ;  and  to  lay  before  this  House 
any  correspondence  with  Mr.  Russell  relative  to  that  sub 
ject  which  it  may  not  be  improper  to  communicate  ;  and 
also  any  correspondence  between  Mr.  Barlow  and  Mr. 
Russell  on  that  subject,  which  ma.y  be  in  the  possession  of 
the  Department  of  State. 

"Resolved,  That  the  President  of  the  United  States 
be  requested  to  inform  this  House  whether  the  Minister 
of  France  near  the  United  States  ever  informed  this 


OF    DANIEL    WEBSTER.  33 

Government  of  the  existence  of  the  said  decree  of  the 
28th  of  April,  1811,  and  to  lay  before  the  House  any 
correspondence  that  may  have  taken  place  with  the  said 
Minister  relative  thereto,  which  the  President  may  not 
think  improper  to  be  communicated. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  President  of  the  United  States  be 
requested  to  communicate  to  this  House  any  other  in 
formation  which  may  be  in  his  possession,  and  which  he 
may  not  deem  injurious  to  the  public  interest  to  disclose, 
relative  to  the  said  decree  of  the  28th  of  April,  1811, 
and  tending  to  show  at  what  time,  by  whom,  and  in  what 
manner  the  said  decree  was  first  made  known  to  this 
Government  or  to  any  of  its  representatives  or  agents. 

-""Resolved,  That  the  President  be  requested,  in  case 
the  fact  be  that  the  first  information  of  the  existence  of 
said  decree  of  the  28th  of  April,  1811,  ever  received  by 
this  Government  or  any  of  its  ministers  or  agents,  was 
that  communicated  in  May)  1812,  by  the  Duke  of  Bassano, 
to  Mr.  Barlow,  and  by  him  to  his  Government,  as  men 
tioned  in  his  letter  to  the  Secretary  of  State,  of  May  12, 
1812,  and  the  accompanying  papers,  to  inform  this  House 
whether  the  Government  of  the  United  States  hath  ever 
received  from  that  of  France  any  explanation  of  the 
reasons  of  that  decree  being  concealed  from  this  Govern 
ment  and  its  Ministers  for  so  long  a  time  after  its  date  ; 
and,  if  such  explanation  has  been  asked  by  this  Govern 
ment,  and  has  been  omitted  to  be  given  by  that  of  France, 
whether  this  Government  has  made  any  remonstrance,  or 
expressed  any  dissatisfaction,  to  the  Government  of 
France,  at  such  concealment." 

These  resolutions  Mr.  Webster  supported  by  an  argu 
ment  of  much  ability.  It  was  his  maiden  speech  in  Con 
gress.  It  impressed  all  who  heard  it  with  a  high  estimate 
of  his  talents ;  and  among  the  rest  was  Chief-Justice 


34  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES 

Marshall,  who  declared,  in  a  letter  subsequently  written  to 
a  friend,  "  that  though  he  was  then  unacquainted  with 
Mr.  Webster,  he  readily  discerned  from  that  speech  that 
he  was  a  very  able  man,  and  would  become  one  of  the  first 
statesmen  in  America,  and  perhaps  the  very  first." 

So  well  had  Mr.  Webster  acquitted  himself  during  his 
first  term  of  office  as  representative  in  Congress,  that, 
after  its  conclusion,  in  August,  1814,  he  was  re-elected 
from  his  former  district  by  an  immense  majority.  On  his 
return  to  the  national  councils,  a  very  different  state  of  - 
affairs  existed,  and  called  for  a  different  species  of  legisla 
tion.  In  December,  1814,  peace  with  England  was  pro 
claimed  ;  and  thenceforth  the  internal  and  commercial 
affairs  of  the  country  demanded  the  attention  of  Congress. 
The  currency  was  in  a  state  of  miserable  derangement, 
and  the  Government  proposed  the  establishment  of  a 
United  States  Bank  as  the  most  efficient  remedy  for  the 
existing  evils.  The  charter  of  the  first  United  States 
Bank  had  expired  several  years  prior  to  this  date.  The 
constitutionality  of  such  an  institution  was  one  of  the 
chief  points  under  discussion.  Mr.  Madison  directed  his 
Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Dallas,  to  send  a  bill  to  the  House 
proposing  to  erect  a  new  bank  with  a  capital  of  fifty 
millions,  forty-five  millions  of  which  should  consist  of 
the  public  stocks  and  five  millions  of  specie.  It  was  not 
to  be  a  specie-paying  bank,  and  was  to  lend  the  Govern 
ment  thirty  millions  at  any  time  in  payment  for  the  im 
munities  which  were  thus  conferred  upon  it.  Mr.  Webster 
was  not  opposed  to  a  United  States  Bank  in  the  abstract ; 
but  he  condemned  an  institution  which  should  be  based  en 
tirely  upon  such  questionable  principles.  He  denounced  it 
as  a  mere  paper-money  and  flimsy  contrivance,  calculated  to 
rob  the  community  and  to  embarrass  both  the  Government 
and  the  currency.  So  ably  did  he  and  some  other  repre- 


OP   DANIEL    WEBSTER.  35 

sentatlves  oppose  the  passage  of  the  bill,  that  it  was  lost  as 
originally  reported;  but,  being  afterward  reconsidered, 
some  important  amendments  were  introduced  into  it  and 
then  adopted.  It  was  immediately  submitted  to  the  Pre 
sident  for  his  approval;  but  the  latter  was  not  disposed 
thus  to  abandon  his  first  position,  and  he  returned  it  with 
his  objections.  The  period  for  the  adjournment  of  Con 
gress  supervened  at  this  crisis ;  and  the  subject  was  post 
poned  until  a  subsequent  occasion,  when  it  again  assumed 
a  prominent  position  in  the  deliberations  of  Congress  and 
in  the  interest  of  the  nation. 


86  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Calamity  at  Portsmouth — Webster's  Second  Term  in  Congress — The 
Tariff — Webster's  Opposition  to  it — His  Removal  to  Boston — His  Pro 
fessional  Distinction — Case  of  Kenniston  vs.  Goodriclge — Mr. Webster 
declines  Political  Honors — Continues  his  Professional  Labors — Serves 
in  the  Convention  to  Revise  the  Constitution  of  Massachusetts — Cele 
brated  Dartmouth  College  Case — Signal  Display  of  Mr.  Webster's 
Abilities. 


IN  December,  1813,  Mr.  Webster  suffered  a  heavy  loss 
in  the  burning  of  his  house  at  Portsmouth,  together  with 
his  library  and  all  his  private  papers.  This  calamity  em 
barrassed  him  in  several  ways.  It  was  not  merely  a 
pecuniary  loss,  but  it  occasioned  him  great  inconvenience 
by  being  deprived  of  many  important  and  valuable  memo 
randa,  which  contained  the  fruits  of  long  study  and 
laborious  research  both  in  regard  to  legal  and  literary 
subjects.  But  a  mind  as  powerful  as  his  could  not  be 
disheartened  by  any  misfortune,  however  great;  and  he 
resumed  his  professional  pursuits  with  undiminished  ardor 
and  success. 

The  interval  between  the  thirteenth  and  the  fourteenth 
Congress,  from  March  to  December,  1815,  was  actively  em 
ployed  by  Mr.  Webster.  When  Congress  reassembled,  he 
took  his  place  as  a  representative  from  New  Hampshire. 
Already  had  he  made  his  mark  and  acquired  an  eminence 
in  the  national  legislature ;  and  his  conduct  and  policy 
were  watched  with  interest.  The  first  subject  of  import 
ance  which  came  up  for  discussion  was  the  question  of 
revenue  and  taxation.  The  revenues  of  the  Federal 


OF   LANIEL    WEBSTER.  37 

Government  were  then  in  an  embarrassed  condition.  The 
expenses  of  the  recent  war  with  England  had  loaded  the 
country  with  heavy  debts;  and  a  protective  tariff  was 
proposed  by  the  war-party  for  the  purpose  of  increasing 
the  revenue,  and  for  promoting  the  interests  of  those 
domestic  manufactures  which  had  commenced  to  exist  and 
to  flourish  in  certain  portions  of  the  Confederacy.  The 
interests  of  New  England  at  that  period  were  chiefly  of  a 
commercial  and  maritime  nature ;  and  a  high  tariff  was 
consequently  repugnant  to  the  feelings  and  the  welfare  of 
her  people.  Mr.  Webster,  therefore,  as  one  of  her  repre 
sentatives  in  Congress,  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  oppose  a 
tariff  at  that  time.  He  admitted  the  constitutionality  of 
the  measure,  though  he  denied  its  expediency.  But  the 
Middle  and  Southern  States  combined  their  resources 
together,  and  it  was  thereby  triumphantly  carried. 

The  next  measure  of  importance  which  occupied  the  at 
tention  of  Congress  was  the  establishment  of  the  United 
States  Bank.  Mr.  Webster  again  opposed  the  creation  of 
an  institution  which  should  be  closely  connected  with  the 
Government.  He  contended  that  both  should  be  entirely 
independent  of  each  other.  He  defended  his  opinions 
with  great  logical  force  and  ability  in  several  speeches 
made  on  the  occasion ;  but  his  efforts  were  again  unsuccess 
ful,  and  the  bank  was  established.  He  was  more  fortunate 
in  his  next  movement.  He  offered  resolutions  in  the 
House  the  purport  of  which  was  to  ordain,  in  substance, 
that  all  debts  due  to  the  Federal  Government  in  all  the 
several  States  should  be  liquidated  only  in  gold  or  silver, 
or  in  the  notes  of  such  banks  as  paid  specie  at  their 
counters  on  demand.  Previous  to  this  period,  the  revenues 
collected  in  the  different  States  had  been  paid  in  the  bills 
of  the  banks  of  those  States  respectively.  Some  States 
therefore  whose  notes  constantly  bore  a  par  value — such,  for 

4 


38  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES 

instance,  as  those  of  New  England — paid  the  full  amount 
of  the  sums  due  to  the  Federal  treasury ;  whereas  other 
States,  whose  banks  were  at  a  heavy  discount,  defrauded 
the  Government  sometimes  as  much  as  twenty-five  per 
cent,  by  paying  their  dues  in  the  notes  of  the  banks  of 
those  States,  which  did  not  bear  par  value.  The  resolu 
tions  offered  by  Mr.  Webster,  while  they  were  perfectly  just 
and  equitable  in  the  abstract,  were  also  highly  favorable 
to  the  interests  of  New  England,  and  as  such  they  greatly 
increased  his  popularity  and  influence  with  his  constituents. 
At  the  termination  of  this  session  of  Congress  Mr. 
Webster  returned  home  covered  with  laurels.  He  now 
determined  to  seek  a  more  enlarged  arena  for  his  future 
professional  labors  ;  and  he  resolved  to  remove  either  to 
Boston  or  Albany,  in  both  of  which  places  he  had  many 
influential  friends.  After  some  deliberations,  he  selected 
Boston  as  his  future  home,  and  in  August,  1816,  he  removed 
his  family  thither.  He  had,  indeed,  another  session  to 
serve  in  Congress  as  representative  for  New  Hampshire  ; 
but  the  events  of  that  session  were  unimportant,  and 
nothing  occurred  in  it  in  reference  to  Mr.  Webster  which 
needs  to  be  recapitulated  in  this  narration  of  his  history. 
At  its  close  he  refused  all  further  political  honors,  and 
devoted  himself  to  his  professional  duties  in  Boston. 
Great  as  were  his  talents,  it  was  necessary  even  for  him 
to  exert  himself,  in  order  to  acquire  a  lucrative  and  emi 
nent  position  at  such  a  bar  as  the  capital  of  New  England 
then  possessed ;  and  during  some  years  Mr.  Webster  devoted 
himself  assiduously  to  the  duties  of  his  profession.  He 
rapidly  rose  to  the  first  place  at  the  bar  of  his  adopted 
State.  As  may  readily  be  supposed,  his  natural  gifts  and 
his  acquired  powers  made  him  facile  princeps  among  a 
host  of  able  and  distinguished  advocates.  Among  his 
rivals  there  were  indeed  men  who  were  his  equals,  perhaps 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  39 

his  superiors,  in  one  single  gift  or  intellectual  accomplish 
ment.  Some  may  have  had  more  technical  legal  learning, 
others  more  experience  at  the  bar,  and  more  craft.  But 
he  was  unequalled  for  a  rare  and  admirable  -  combination 
of  great  gifts,  which  constituted  in  him  a  stupendous  and 
unequalled  whole. 

Mr.  Webster's  practice  soon  became  extensive  and  profit 
able.  He  entered  into  both  civil  and  criminal  causes.  Some 
of  these  were  of  the  first  importance,  and  of  general  interest 
throughout  the  community.  The  ability,  the  eloquence, 
the  learning  and  the  success  with  which  he  conducted 
them  won  for  him  a  wide  reputation  t as  jan  advocate,  and 
added  the  laurels  of  the  forum  to  the  plaudits  of  the 
Senate,  which  he  already  enjoyed.  One  of  these  law-suits 
deserves  to  be  described  more  minutely,  from  the  degree 
of  general  attention  which  it  attracted  at  the  time.  It 
was  the  case  of  the  "Kennistons  vs.  Goodridge.  The 
latter  was  a  respectable  young  man  who  resided  at  Bangor 
in  Maine.  On  his  way  to  Boston  with  a  considerable  sum 
of  money,  he  was  reported  to  have  been  robbed.  Before 
commencing  his  journey,  he  procured  a  pair  of  pistols  ; 
and  upon  each  piece  of  money  which  he  carried  he  had 
made  a  private  mark,  by  which  he  could  readily  identify 
it  again.  Mr.  Marston  of  Newburyport,  who  was  asso 
ciated  with  Mr.  Webster  in  the  trial,  thus  describes  the 
succeeding  incidents  of  the  case  : 

"  When  he  arrived  at  Exeter,  New  Hampshire,  he  pro 
cured  nine  balls,  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  made  no 
secret  of  having  pistols.  At  this  place  he  left  his  sleigh, 
obtained  a  saddle,  and  started  for  Newburyport  on  horse 
back,  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  19th  of  December, 
1817,  passing  the  Essex  Merrimack  bridge  a  few  minutes 
before  nine  o'clock*  On  the  brow  of  the  hill,  a  short  dis 
tance  from  the  bridge,  is  the  place  of  the  robbery,  in  full 


40  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES 

view  of  several  houses,  on  a  great  thoroughfare,  where 
people  are  constantly  passing,  and  where  the  mail-coach 
and  two  wagons  >vere  known  to  have  passed  within  a  few 
minutes  of  the  time  of  the  alleged  robbery. 

"  The  major's  story  was  as  follows  :  <  Three  men  sud 
denly  appeared  before  him,  one  of  whom  seized  the  bridle 
of  the  horse,  presented  a  pistol,  and  demanded  his  money. 
The  major,  pretending  to  be  getting  his  money,  seized  a 
pistol  from  his  portmanteau  with  his  right  hand,  grasped 
the  ruffian  at  the  horse's  head  with  his  left,  and  both  dis 
charged  their  pistols  at  the  same  instant,  the  ball  of  his 
adversary  passing  through  the  major's  hand.  The  three 
robbers  then  pulled  him  from  his  horse,  dragged  him  over 
the  frozen  ground,  and  over  the  fence,  beating  him  till  he 
was  senseless,  and  robbed  him  of  about  seventeen  hundred 
dollars  in  gold  and  paper  money,  and  left  him  with  his 
gold  watch  and  all  his  papers  in  the  field.  Recovering  in 
about  half  an  hour,  he  went  back  to  the  bridge,  passed 
several  houses  without  calling,  and,  at  the  toll-house,  ac 
cused  the  first  person  he  met  with — a  female — of  robbing 
him  ;  and  so  continued  charging  various  people  about  him 
with  the  robbery.  After  some  time,  a  lantern  was  pro 
cured,  and  himself  with  others  started  for  the  place  of 
the  robbery,  where  were  found  his  watch,  papers,  pen 
knife,  and  other  articles.  He  represented  to  them  that 
the  robbers  had  bruised  his  head,  stamped  upon  his  breast, 
and  stabbed  him  in  several  places.  Physicians  were 
called  ;  and  he  appeared  to  be  insane.  The  next  day  he 
went  to  Newburyport,  and  was  confined  to  his  bed  for 
several  weeks.  A  reward  of  three  hundred  dollars,  soon 
increased  by  voluntary  subscriptions  to  one  thousand,  was 
offered  for  the  detection  of  the  robbers  and  the  recovery 
of  the  money.  As  soon  as  the  major  was  able  to  leave 
his  bed,  he  went  to  Danvers,  consulted  his  friends  there ; 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  41 

and  the  result  of  his  deliberations  and  inquiries  was  the 
arrest  of  the  Kennistons,  who  were  found  in  an  obscure 
part  of  the  town  of  New  Market,  New  Hampshire,  their 
place  of  residence.  In  their  house  the  major  found  some 
pieces  of  his  marked  gold  deposited  under  a  pork-barrel 
in  the  cellar.  He  also  found  there  a  ten-dollar  note,  which 
he  identified  as  his  own. 

"  This  was  proof  indeed  of  the  facts  of  the  robbery, 
which  seemed  for  a  time  effectually  fastened  on  the  Ken 
nistons.  But  one  circumstance  after  another  came  to 
light  in  regard  to  the  transaction,  until  some  people  felt 
doubts  creeping  over  their  minds  as  to  the  truthfulness  of 
the  major's  story.  These  were  few  in  number,  it  is  true ; 
but  such  an  intimation,  coming  from  any  respectable 
source,  was  enough  to  startle  the  major  and  his  friends 
from  their  apathy  and  incite  them  to  renewed  efforts  to 
probe  this  dark  and  mysterious  transaction  to  its  depths. 
The  result  was  to  search  the  house  of  Mr.  Pearson,  the 
toll-gatherer  at  the  bridge;  but  here  nothing  was  found. 
They  then  procured  the.  services  of  an  old  conjurer  of 
Danvers,  Swimmington  by  name,  and,  under  his  direction, 
with  witch-hazel  and  metallic  rods,  renewed  their  search 
upon  Mr.  Pearson's  premises,  this  time  discovering  the 
major's  gold  and  paper  wrappers.  Mr.  Pearson  was 
arrested,  carried  to  Newburyport,  examined  before  two 
magistrates,  and  discharged  at  once.  This  operation 
proved  most  unpropitious  to  the  major's  plans.  So  great 
was  the  indignation  of  Mr.  Pearson's  friends — for  he  was 
a  respectable  man — that  they  lost  all  control  over  them 
selves,  and,  after  the  examination,  detaching  the  horses 
from  the  sleigh,  they  drew  him  home  themselves. 

"  It  now  became  more  necessary  than  ever  that  some 
one  should  be  found  who  might  be  connected  with  the 

Kennibtons  in  the  robbery ;  for  the   circumstances  in  re- 

4* 


42  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES 

lation  to  these  men  were  such  that  the  public  could  not 
believe  that  they  had  received  a  portion  of  the  spoil.  The 
next  step,  therefore,  was  to  arrest  one  Taber  of  Boston, 
who  had  formerly  lived  in  Portland,  arid  whom  Goodridge 
said  he  had  seen  at  Alfred  on  his  way  up,  and  from  whom 
he  pretended  to  have  obtained  information  in  regard  to 
the  Kennistons.  In  Taber's  house  were  found  a  number 
of  the  marked  wrappers  which  the  major  had  put  round 
his  gold  before  leaving  home.  Taber  was  likewise  brought 
to  Newburyport,  examined,  and  bound  over  for  trial  with 
the  Kennistons. 

"  Notwithstanding  all  this  accumulation  of  evidence, 
the  public  were  not  satisfied.  It  seemed  to  be  necessary 
that  somebody  living  near  the  bridge  should  be  connected 
with  the  transaction ;  and  Mr.  Joseph  Jackman  was 
fastened  upon  as  that  unfortunate  man,  he  having  left 
Newbury  for  New  York  very  soon  after  the  alleged  rob 
bery.  TLither  Goodridge  immediately  proceeded,  found 
Jackman,  who  was  living  then  with  his  brother,  searched 
the  house,  and  in  the  garret,  among  some  old  rubbish, 
found  a  large  number  of  his  marked  wrappers !  The 
major's  touch  was  magical,  and  underneath  his  fingers 
gold  and  bank-notes  grew  in  plenty.  Jackman  was  ar 
rested  and  lodged  in  'the  Tombs,'  while  Goodridge  re 
turned  to  Boston,  got  a  requisition  from  the  governor, 
and  had  him  brought  in  irons  to  Ipswich,  where  the 
supreme  judicial  court  was  then  in  session.  The  grand 
jury  had  risen  ;  but  he  was  examined  before  a  magistrate, 
and  ordered  to  recognize  to  appear  at  the  next  term, 
which  he  did,  and  was  discharged.  An  indictment  had 
been  found  against  the  Kennistons  and  Taber  ;  and  the 
time  of  trial  had  arrived.  Notwithstanding  the  doubts 
and  suspicions  which  had  been  excited  by  the  conduct 
of  Goodridge,  yet  the  evidence  against  the  Kennistons, 


OF   DANIEL    WEBSTER.  43 

Taber  and  Jackman  was  so  overwhelming,  that  almost 
every  one  felt  sure  of  their  conviction.  To  such  an  ex 
tent  did  this  opinion  prevail,  that  no  member  of  the  Essex 
bar  was  willing  to  undertake  their  defence.  Under  these 
circumstances,  two  or  three  individuals,  who  had  been 
early  convinced  that  the  major's  stories  were  false  from 
beginning  to  end,  determined,  the  day  before  the  trial,  to 
send  to  Suffolk  for  counsel.  Mr.  Webster  had  just  then 
removed  to  Boston  from  Portsmouth.  His  services  were 
engaged ;  and,  late  in  the  night  preceding  the  day  of  trial, 
he  arrived  at  Ipswich,  having  had  no  opportunity  to  exa 
mine  the  witnesses,  and  but  little  time  for  consultation. 
The  indictment  against  Taber  was  nol  pressed,  and  the 
trial  of  the  Kenriistons  was  commenced.  Mr.  Webster, 
as  senior  counsel,  conducted  the  defence  with  a  degree  of 
ability,  boldness,  tact  and  legal  learning  which  had  rarely 
been  witnessed  in  Essex  county ;  and.  notwithstanding  the 
accumulated  mass  of  evidence  against  the  Kennistons,  they 
were  acquitted. 

"  At  the  next  term  of  the  supreme  judicial  court,  Jack 
man  was  indicted  and  tried;  but  the  jury  did  not  agree, 
though  the  Hon.  William  Prescott  had  been  employed  to 
assist  the  prosecuting  officer.  Jackman  was  again  tried 
at  the  next  term  of  the  court,  and  this  time  defended  by 
Mr.  Webster,  and  acquitted. 

"  The  criminal  prosecutions  growing  oiot  of  this  affair 
being  thus  ended,  Mr.  Pearson  commenced  an  action 
against  Goodridge  for  malicious  prosecution,  laying  his 
damages  at  two  thousand  dollars,  which  sum  the  jury 
awarded  him  without  leaving  their  seats.  In  this  case 
also  Mr.  Webster  was  counsel  for  the  plaintiff;  and  time 
had  brought  forth  so  many  new  facts,  and  the  evidence 
was  so  clear  and  overwhelming  against  Goodridge,  that 
the  public  became  satisfied  that  he  was  his  own  robber  ! 


44  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

He  was  surrendered  by  his  bail,  committed  to  jail,  took 
the  poor  debtors'  oath,  and  soon  after  left  the  common 
wealth,  and  has  not  resided  here  since.  The  public  rarely 
stop  to  consider  how  much  they  are  indebted  to  men  like 
Webster  for  laying  bare  the  villainy  of  such  a  deep-laid 
and  diabolical  plot.  But  for  him,  there  is  no  doubt  the 
Kennistons  and  Jackman  would  have  been  convicted  of 
highway-robbery,  though  innocent." 

After  Mr.  Webster  had  resided  about  two  years  in 
Boston,  he  was  urged  by  his  friends  to  become  a  candidate 
for  Congress  for  the  third  time.  This  offer  he  positively 
declined  ;  and  a  short  time  afterward  when  his  admirers 
wished  to  put  forward  his  name  before  the  Legislature 
of  Massachusetts  as  candidate  for  election  to  the  United 
States  Senate,  he  returned  the  same  answer,  and  again 
declined  the  proffered  honor.  The  truth  was,  that  both 
his  interests  and  his  inclination  bound  him  to  his  pro 
fession,  and  he  would  not  permit  himself  to  be  diverted 
at  that  time  from  its  duties  even  by  the  prospect  of  the 
highest  political  promotion.  Seven  years  were  thus  spent 
by  Mr.  Webster  in  professional  pursuits  before  he  again 
allowed  himself  to  be  involved  in  the  distracting  strife  of 
politics,  excepting  in  capacities  or  relations  which  were  to 
him  matters  of  small  moment.  Thus,  he  served  as  one  of 
the  Presidential  electors  of  Massachusetts  at  the  re-elec 
tion  of  Mr.  Monroe ;  and  he  was  also  a  delegate  to  the 
convention  which  revised  the  Constitution  of  the  Common 
wealth  in  1821. 

During  the  period  in  which  Mr.  Webster  devoted  himself 
exclusively  to  his  legal  practice  in  Boston,  he  was  em 
ployed  in  many  cases  of  great  interest  and  of  the  highest 
consequence,  both  in  Boston  and  in  the  Supreme  Court 
of  the  United  States.  Our  limits  forbid  us  to  enumerate 
many  of  these ;  and  we  will  confine  ourselves  to  but  one, 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  45 

• — the  memorable  Dartmouth  College  case  against  Wood 
ward.  In  the  year  1769  a  charter  had  been  obtained 
from  the  Legislature  creating  and  establishing  the  corpora 
tion  of  the  college.  It  was  designated  therein  as  a  charity- 
school,  which  had  originally  been  founded  by  Dr.  Eleazer 
Wheelock,  and  supported  by  funds  which  he  had  collected, 
or  caused  to  be  collected,  both  in  England  and  America. 
Subsequently  the  Legislature  of  New  Hampshire  passed 
several  acts  which  conflicted  with  some  of  the  provisions  of 
the  original  charter;  and  the  question  to  be  determined 
by  the  Supreme  Court  in  that  trial  was,  whether  the  acts 
of  the  Legislature,  which  virtually  destroyed  the  original 
corporation,  which  was  to  consist  of  but  twTelve  members 
and  no  more,  and  which  created  in  effect  a  new  and  a  dif 
ferent  corporation,  were  binding  upon  the  old  corporation 
without  their  consent ;  if,  moreover,  those  acts  were  not 
contrary  to  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States.  The 
cause  was  tried  in  the  first  instance  in  the  court  of  Rock- 
ingham  county,  arid  judgment  was  given  in  favor  of  the 
constitutionality  and  validity  of  the  acts  of  the  Legisla 
ture  in  question.  A  writ  of  error  was  sued  out  by  the 
original  plaintiffs,  and  the  cause  removed  to  the  Supreme 
Federal  Court  at  Washington.  The  case  was  finally 
argued  on  the  10th  of  March,  1818,  before  a  full  bench. 
Messrs.  Webster  and  Ilopkinson  represented  the  plaintiffs 
in  error,  Messrs.  Holmes  and  Wirt  the  defendant  in  error. 
Able  as  were  the  antagonists  of  Mr.  Webster  in  this  cele 
brated  trial,  his  abilities  transcended  them  all.  After 
lengthy  and  elaborate  arguments  on  both  sides,  the  court 
decided  in  favor  of  the  plaintiffs, — the  College  of  Dart 
mouth, — and  by  a  final  decree  declared  the  acts  of  the 
Legislature  to  have  been  invalid,  and  reversed  the  judg 
ment  of  the  court  below. 

As  this  was  one  of  the  most  signal  triumphs  of  Mr. 


46  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES 

Webster's  intellect,  it  may  be  proper  to  introduce  Lere  an 
extract  from  the  masterly  argument  which  he  delivered  on 
the  occasion.  Among  his  many  great  forensic  efforts,  none 
exhibited  more  clearly  and  imposingly  the  grasp,  clearness 
and  power  of  his  mind  in  dealing  with  the  most  intricate 
and  profound  principles  which  are  involved  in  one  of  the 
most  abstruse  and  recondite  of  sciences.  After  having 
argued  the  two  fundamental  points  that  the  acts  of  the 
Legislature  were  in  violation  of  common  right  and  the  Con 
stitution  of  New  Hampshire,  and  that  they  were  repugnant 
to  the  Federal  Constitution,  which  forbids  all  ex  post  facto 
laws,  he  concluded  his  speech  as  follows: 

"  There  are  in  this  case  all  the  essential  constituent 
parts  of  a  contract.  There  is  something  to  be  contracted 
about ;  there  are  parties ;  and  there  are  plain  terms  in  which 
the  agreement  of  the  parties  on  the  subject  of  the  contract 
is  expressed.  There  are  mutual  considerations  and  induce 
ments.  The  charter  recites  that  the  founder,  on  his  part, 
has  agreed  to  establish  his  seminary  in  New  Hampshire, 
and  to  enlarge  it  beyond  its  original  design,  among  other 
things,  for  the  benefit  of  that  province  ;  and  thereupon  a 
charter  is  given  to  him  and  his  associates,  designated  by 
himself,  promising  and  assuring  to  them,  under  the  plighted 
faith  of  this  State,  the  right  of  governing  the  college  and 
administering  its  concerns  in  the  manner  provided  in  the 
charter.  There  is  a  complete  and  perfect  grant  to  them 
of  all  the  power  of  superintendence,  visitation  and  govern 
ment.  Is  not  this  a  contract  ?  If  lands  or  money  had 
been  granted  to  him  and  his  associates  for  the  same  pur 
poses,  such  grant  could  not  be  rescinded.  And  is  there 
any  difference,  in  legal  contemplation,  between  a  grant  of 
corporate  franchises  and  a  grant  of  tangible  property  ? 
No  such  difference  is  recognised  in  any  decided  case,  nor 
does  it  exist  in  the  common  apprehension  of  mankind. 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  47 

"  It  is,  therefore,  contended  that  this  case  falls  within 
the  true  meaning  of  this  provision  of  the  Constitution,  as 
expounded  in  the  decisions  of  this  court;  that  the  charter 
of  1769  is  a  contract,  a  stipulation  or  agreement,  mutual 
in  its  considerations,  express  and  formal  in  its  terms  and 
of  a  most  binding  and  solemn  nature.  That  the  acts  in 
question  impair  this  contract  has  already  been  sufficiently 
shown.  They  repeal  and  abrogate  its  most  essential  parts. 

"A  single  observation  may  not  be  improper  on  the 
opinion  of  the  court  of  New  Hampshire,  which  has  been 
published.  The  learned  judges  who  delivered  that  opinion 
have  viewed  this  question  in  a  very  different  light  from 
that  in  which  the  plaintiffs  have  endeavored  to  exhibit  it. 
After  some  general  remarks,  they  assume  that  this  college 
is  a  public  corporation  ;  and  on  this  basis  their  judgment 
rests.  Whether  all  colleges  are  not  regarded  as  private  and 
eleemosynary  corporations  by  all  law-writers  and  all  judi 
cial  decisions ;  whether  this  college  was  not  founded  by 
Dr.  Wheelock ;  whether  the  charter  was  not  granted  at 
his  request,  the  better  to  execute  a  trust  which  he  had 
already  created ;  whether  he  and  his  associates  did  not 
become  visitors  by  the  charter ;  and  whether  Dartmouth 
College  be  not,  therefore,  in  the  strictest  sense,  a  private 
charity,  are  questions  which  the  learned  judges  do  not 
appear  to  have  discussed. 

"It  is  admitted  in  that  opinion  that,  if  it  be  a  private 
corporation,  its  rights  stand  on  the  same  ground  as  those 
of  an  individual.  The  great  question,  therefore,  to  be 
decided,  is,  To  which  class  of  corporations  do  colleges  thus 
founded  belong?  And  the  plaintiffs  have  endeavored  to 
satisfy  the  court  that,  according  to  the  well-settled  prin 
ciples  and  uniform  decisions  of  law,  they  are  private, 
eleemosynary  corporations. 

"Much  has  heretofore  been  said  on  the  necessity  of 


48  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 

admitting  such  a  power  in  the  Legislature  as  has  been  as 
sumed  in  this  case.  Many  cases  of  possible  evil  have  been 
imagined,  which  might  otherwise  be  without  remedy. 
Abuses,  it  is  contended,  might  arise  in  the  management  of 
Buch  institutions,  which  the  ordinary  courts  of  law  would 
be  unable  to  correct.  But  this  is  only  another  instance  of 
that  habit  of  supposing  extreme  cases,  and  then  of  rea 
soning  from  them,  which  is  the  constant  refuge  of  those 
who  are  obliged  to  defend  a  cause  which  upon  its  merits 
is  indefensible.  It  would  be  sufficient  to  say  in  answer 
that  it  is  not  pretended  that  there  was  here  any  such  case 
of  necessity.  But  a  still  more  satisfactory  answer  is,  that 
the  apprehension  of  danger  is  groundless,  and  therefore 
the  whole  argument  fails.  Experience  has  not  taught  us 
that  there  is  danger  of  great  evils  or  of  great  inconvenience 
from  this  source.  Hitherto,  neither  in  our  own  country 
nor  elsewhere  have  such  cases  of  necessity  occurred.  The 
judicial  establishments  of  the  State  are  presumed  to  be 
competent  to  prevent  abuses  and  violations  of  trust  in 
cases  of  this  kind,  as  well  as  in  all  others.  If  they  be  not, 
they  are  imperfect,  and  their  amendment  would  be  a  most 
proper  subject  for  legislative  wisdom.  Under  the  govern 
ment  and  protection  of  the  general  laws  of  the  land,  these 
institutions  have  always  been  found  safe,  as  well  as  useful. 
They  go  on  with  the  progress  of  society,  accommodating 
themselves  easily,  without  sudden  change  or  violence,  to 
the  alterations  which  take  place  in  its  condition,  and  in  the 
knowledge,  the  habits  and  pursuits  of  men.  The  English 
colleges  were  founded  in  Catholic  ages.  Their  religion 
was  reformed  with  the  general  reformation  of  the  nation, 
and  they  are  suited  perfectly  well  to  the  purpose  of  edu 
cating  the  Protestant  youth  of  modern  times.  Dartmouth 
College  was  established  under  a  charter  granted  by  the 
provincial  Government ;  but  a  better  constitution  for  a 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  49 

college,  or  one  more  adapted  to  the  condition  of  things 
under  the  present  Government,  in  all  material  respects, 
could  not  now  be  framed.  Nothing  in  it  was  found  to 
need  alteration  at  the  Revolution.  The  wise  men  of  that 
day  saw  in  it  one  of  the  best  hopes  of  future  times,  and 
commended  it  as  it  was,  with  parental  care,  to  the  protec 
tion  and  guardianship  of  the  Government  of  the  State.  A 
charter  of  more  liberal  sentiments,  of  wiser  provisions, 
drawn  with  more  care  or  in  a  better  spirit,  could  not  be 
expected  at  any  time  or  from  any  source.  The  college 
needed  no  change  in  its  organization  or  government.  That 
which  it  did  need  was  the  kindness,  the  patronage,  the 
bounty,  of  the  Legislature  ;  not  a  mock  elevation  to  the 
character  of  a  university,  without  the  solid  benefit  of  a 
shilling's  donation  to  sustain  the  character;  not  the 
swelling  and  empty  authority  of  establishing  institutes  arid 
other  colleges.  This  unsubstantial  pageantry  would  seem 
to  have  been  in  derision  of  the  scanty  endowment  and 
limited  means  of  an  unobtrusive,  but  useful  and  growing, 
seminary.  Least  of  all  was  there  a  necessity,  or  pretence 
of  necessity,  to  infringe  its  legal  rights,  violate  its  fran 
chises  and  privileges,  and  pour  upon  it  these  overwhelming 
streams  of  litigation. 

"  But  this  argument  from  necessity  would  equally 
apply  in  all  other  cases.  If  it  be  well  founded,  it  would 
prove  that,  whenever  any  inconvenience  or  evil  is  experi 
enced  from  the  restrictions  imposed  on  the  Legislature  by 
the  Constitution,  these  restrictions  ought  to  be  disregarded. 
It  is  enough  to  say  that  the  people  have  thought  otherwise. 
They  have  most  wisely  chosen  to  take  the  risk  of  occasional 
inconvenience  from  the  want  of  power,  in  order  that  there 
might  be  a  settled  limit  to  its  exercise  and  a  permanent 
security  against  its  abuse.  They  have  imposed  prohibi 
tions  and  restraints  j  and  they  have  not  rendered  these 


50  THE   LIFE  AND   TIMES 

altogether  vain  and  nugatory  by  conferring  the  power  of 
dispensation.  If  inconvenience  should  arise  which  the 
Legislature  cannot  remedy  under  the  power  conferred  upon 
it,  it  is  not  answerable  for  such  inconvenience.  That 
which  it  cannot  do  within  the  limits  prescribed  to  it,  it 
cannot  do  at  all.  No  Legislature  in  this  country  is  able — 
and  may  the  time  never  come  when  it  shall  be  able ! — to 
apply  to  itself  the  memorable  expression  of  a  Roman 
pontiff:  'Licet  hoc  DE  JURE  non  possumus,  volumus 
tamen  DE  PLENITUDINE  POTESTATIS.' 

"  The  case  before  the  court  is  not  of  ordinary  import 
ance,  nor  of  every-day  occurrence.  It  affects  not  this 
college  only,  but  every  college,  and  all  the  literary  institu 
tions,  of  the  country.  They  have  flourished  hitherto,  and 
have  become  in  a  high  degree  respectable  and  useful  to 
the  community.  'They  have  all  a  common  principle  of  ex 
istence, — the  inviolability  of  their  charters.  It  will  be  a 
dangerous,  a  most  dangerous  experiment,  to  hold  these 
institutions  subject  to  the  rise  and  fall  of  popular  parties 
and  the  fluctuations  of  political  opinions.  If  the  franchise 
may  be  at  any  time  taken  away  or  impaired,  the  property 
also  may  be  taken  away,  or  its  use  perverted.  Benefactors 
will  have  no  certainty  of  effecting  the  object  of  their 
'bounty ;  and  learned  men  will  be  deterred  from  devoting 
themselves  to  the  service  of  such  institutions,  from  the 
precarious  title  of  their  offices.  Colleges  and  halls  will  be 
deserted  by  all  better  spirits,  and  become  a  theatre  for  the 
contentions  of  politics.  Party  and  faction  will  be  cherished 
in  the  places  consecrated  to  piety  and  learning.  These 
consequences  are  neither  remote  nor  possible  only.  They 
are  certain  and  immediate. 

"  When  the  court  in  North  Carolina  declared  the  law  of 
the  State,  which  repealed  a  grant  to  its  university,  uncon 
stitutional  and  void,  the  Legislature  had  the  candor  and  the 


OF  DANIEL   WEBSTER.  51 

wisdom  to  repeal  the  law.  This  example,  so  honorable  to 
the  State  which  exhibited  it,  is  most  fit  to  be  followed  on 
this  occasion.  And  there  is  good  reason  to  hope  that  a 
State  which  has  hitherto  been  so  much  distinguished  for 
temperate  counsels,  cautious  legislation,  and  regard  to  law, 
will  not  fail  to  adopt  a  course  which  will  accord  with  her 
highest  and  best  interests,  and  in  no  small  degree  elevate 
her  reputation." 


THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 


CHAPTER  Y. 

Mr.  Webster  again  elected  to  Congress — Debates  in  Congress  respecting 
Greece — Mr.  Webster's  Speech  on  the  Occasion — Extract  from  it — His 
Opposition  to  the  Tariff — Mr.  Webster's  Speech  on  the  Laying  of 
Bunker  Hill  Monument — Chairman  of  the  Judiciary  Committee — Re 
form  in  the  U.  S.  Supreme  Court — Mr.  Webster's  Speech  on  the  Death 
of  John  Adams — He  is  elected  Senator  from  Massachusetts  in  the 
Twentieth  Congress. 

IN  December,  1823,  Mr.  Webster  again  took  his  seat  in 
the  House  of  Representatives  at  Washington.  He  had 
been  elected  by  a  very  large  majority  of  the  citizens  of 
Boston,  in  consequence  of  the  high  fame  which  he  had 
attained  as  a  statesman,  and  the  confidence  which  he  had 
secured  in  their  personal  esteem.  A  committee  composed 
of  Thomas  Perkins,  William  Sturgis,  and  other  distin 
guished  residents  of  Boston,  called  upon  him  to  inform  him 
of  his  nomination;  and  to  their  solicitations  that  he  should 
run  as  a  candidate,  he  yielded.  His  opponent  in  the  can 
vass  was  Jesse  Putnam.  When  Congress  convened  Henry 
*Clay  was  again  chosen  Speaker ;  and  many  familiar  faces 
welcomed  Mr.  Webster  to  the  scene  of  his  former  brilliant 
displays  of  eloquence  and  statesmanship. 

The  first  subject  of  general  interest  which  engaged 
the  attention  of  the  House  was  the  deadly  conflict  which 
was  at  that  time  raging  in  Greece  between  the  heroic  de 
fenders  of  Grecian  liberty  and  the  fierce  and  savage 
myrmidons  of  the  Turkish  despot.  The  whole  civilized 
world  felt  a  deep  interest  in  that  memorable  struggle. 
England,  France,  Germany  and  Poland  had  experienced 
the  thrilling  effect  of  a  spectacle  in  which,  on  the  one 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTEK.  53 

hand,  the  noblest  attributes  of  humanity — its  heroism,  its 
fortitude,  its  love  of  country,  its  patriotic  pride,  and  its 
regard  for  ancestral  glory — had  all  been  aroused  into 
vigorous  and  sublime  activity;  while  on  the  other  hand, 
the  most  terrible  and  detestable  qualities  of  human  nature 
had  been  enlisted  to  crush  them, — its  cruelty,  its  ferocity,  its 
selfishness,  its  avarice,  and  its  love  of  carnage  and  blood. 
A  powerful  nation  possessing  the  most  formidable  and 
effective  resources  seemed  about  to  crush  the  liberties,  and 
even  to  obliterate  the  very  existence,  of  a  small  and  insig 
nificant  state, — a  state  glorious  indeed  in  the  memories 
and  achievements  of  the  past,  but  totally  incapable,  with 
out  assistance  from  others,  of  resisting  the  colossal  power 
which  seemed  resolved  upon  its  subjugation  and  ruin. 

It  is  not  singular  that  such  a  contest  should  interest  all 
intelligent  and  generous  minds.  The  Senate  of  Calamita 
had  sent  appeals  for  assistance  to  several  of  the  countries 
of  Europe ;  and  one  of  a  similar  character  had  reached 
this  country.  Intense  sympathy  for  the  battling  heroes 
inspired  thousands  of  bosoms ;  and  Mr.  Monroe,  in  his  last 
annual  message,  adverted  to  the  theme,  and  expressed  the 
hope  that  Greece,  so  long  trodden  beneath  the  feet  of 
tyrants,  might  soon  resume  her  place  among  the  nations, 
and  that  no  sentiment  of  selfishness  or  of  fear  should  pre 
vent  the  friends  of  liberty  throughout  the  world  from 
rendering  the  patriots  their  assistance.  On  the  8th  of 
December  Mr.  Webster  introduced  a  resolution  in  the 
House  to  the  effect  that  "  provision  ought  to  be  made  bj 
law  for  defraying  the  expense  of  an  agent  or  commissioner 
to  Greece,  whenever  the  President  should  deem  it  expe 
dient  to  make  such  an  appointment."  On  the  19th  of 
January,  1824,  the  House  resolved  itself  into  a  committee 
of  the  whole,  and  the  resolution  was  taken  up  for  discussion. 
Then  it  was  that  Mr.  Webster  delivered  one  of  his  most 


54  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES 

eloquent  and  memorable  orations.  He  dwelt  upon  the 
principle  already  advocated  by  Mr.  Monroe,  and  known  at 
that  time,  and  ever  since,  as  one  of  his  peculiar  views, — that 
the  policy  of  this  country  should  in  general  be  a  peaceful 
one,  and  that  it  should  retain  the  attitude  under  all  cir 
cumstances  of  non-intervention  in  the  affairs  of  foreign 
nations.  He  argued  that  the  case  of  Greece  and  her 
struggle  for  liberty  formed  a  necessary  exception  to  this 
salutary  rule.  But  it  would  be  impossible  to  convey  to  the 
reader  an  idea  of  the  eloquence  and  power  which  marked 
this  celebrated  oration  by  any  description ;  we  will  there 
fore  make  an  extract  from  it,  selecting  for  that  purpose  its 
most  striking  and  remarkable  portion : 

"It  was  about  this  time — that  is  to  say,  at  the  com 
mencement  of  1821 — that  the  revolution  burst  out  in  various 
parts  of  Greece  and  the  isles.  Circumstances,  certainly, 
were  not  unfavorable,  as  one  portion  of  the  Turkish  army 
was  employed  in  the  war  against  Ali  Pacha,  in  Albania, 
and  another  part  in  the  provinces  north  of  the  Danube. 
The  Greeks  soon  possessed  themselves  of  the  open  country 
of  the  Morea,  and  drove  their  enemy  into  the  fortresses. 
Of  these,  that  of  Tripolitza,  with  the  city,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  Greeks  in  the  course  of  the  summer.  Having, 
after  these  first  movements,  obtained  time  to  breathe,  it 
became^  of  course,  an  early  object  to  establish  a  govern 
ment.  For  this  purpose,  delegates  of  the  people  assembled, 
under  that  name  which  describes  the  assembly  in  which  we 
ourselves  sit,  that  name  which  'freed  the  Atlantic,'  a  Con 
gress.  A  writer  who  undertakes  to  render  to  the  civilized 
world  that  service  which  was  once  performed  by  Edmund 
B^rke,  I  mean  the  compiler  of  the  English  Annual  Re 
gister,  asks  by  what  authority  this  assembly  could  call 
itself  a  congress.  Simply,  sir,  by  the  same  authority  by 
which  the  people  of  the  United  States  have  given  the  same 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  55 

name  to  their  own  legislature.  We,  at  least,  should  be 
naturally  inclined  to  think,  not  only  as  far  as  names,  but 
things,  also,  are  concerned,  that  the  Greeks  could  hardly 
have  begun  their  revolution  under  better  auspices ;  since 
they  have  endeavored  to  render  applicable  to  themselves 
the  general  principles  of  our  form  of  government,  as  well 
as  its  name.  This  constitution  went  into  operation  at  the 
commencement  of  the  next  year.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
war  with  Ali  Pacha  was  ended,  he  having  surrendered,  and 
being  afterward  assassinated,  by  an  instance  of  treachery 
and  perfidy  which,  if  it  had  happened  elsewhere  than 
under  the  government  of  the  Turks,  would  have  deserved 
notice.  The  negotiation  with  Russia,  too,  took  a  turn 
unfavorable  to  the  Greeks.  The  great  point  upon  which 
Russia  insisted,  besides  the  abandonment  of  the  measure  of 
searching  vessels  bound  to  the  Black  Sea,  was,  that  the 
Porte  should  withdraw  its  armies  from  the  neighborhood 
of  the  Russian  frontiers ;  and  the  immediate  consequence 
of  this,  when  effected,  was  to  add  so  much  more  to  the 
disposable  force  ready  to  be  employed  against  the  Greeks. 
These  events  seemed  to  have  left  the  whole  force  of  the 
Turkish  empire,  at  the  commencement  of  1822,  in  a  con 
dition  to  be  employed  against  the  Greek  rebellion;  and, 
accordingly,  very  many  anticipated  the  immediate  destruc 
tion  of  their  cause.  The  event,  however,  was  ordered 
otherwise.  Where  the  greatest  effort  was  made,  it  was  met 
and  defeated.  Entering  the  Morea  with  an  army  which 
seemed  capable  of  bearing  down  all  resistance,  the  Turks 
were  nevertheless  defeated  and  driven  back,  and  pursued 
beyond  the  isthmus,  within  which,  as  far  as  it  appears, 
from  that  time  to  the  present,  they  have  not  been  able  to 
set  their  foot. 

"  It  was  in  April  of  this  year  that  the  destruction  of 
Scio  took  place.     That  island,  a  sort  of  appanage  of  the 


56  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

Sultana  mother,  enjoyed  many  privileges  peculiar  to  itself. 
In  a  population  of  130,000  or  140,000,  it  had  not  more 
than  2000  or  3000  Turks :  indeed,  by  some  accounts,  not 
near  as  many.  The  absence  of  these  ruffian  masters  had 
in  some  degree  allowed  opportunity  for  the  promotion  of 
knowledge,  the  accumulation  of  wealth  and  the  general 
cultivation  of  society.  Here  was  the  seat  of  modern  Greek 
literature ;  here  were  libraries,  printing-presses  and  other 
establishments,  which  indicate  some  advancement  in  refine 
ment  and  knowledge.  Certain  of  the  inhabitants  of  Samos, 
it  would  seem,  envious  of  this  comparative  happiness  of 
Scio,  landed  upon  the  island  in  an  irregular  multitude,  for 
the  purpose  of  compelling  its  inhabitants  to  make  common 
cause  with  their  countrymen  against  their  oppressors. 
These,  being  joined  by  the  peasantry,  marched  to  the  city 
and  drove  the  Turks  into  the  castle.  The  Turkish  fleet, 
lately  reinforced  from  Egypt,  happened  to  be  in  the  neigh 
boring  seas,  and,  learning  these  events,  landed  a  force  on 
the  island  of  fifteen  thousand  men.  There  was  nothing  to 
resist  such  an  army.  These  troops  immediately  entered 
the  city,  and  began  an  indiscriminate  massacre.  The  city 
was  fired ;  and  in  four  days  the  fire  and  sword  of  the  Turk 
rendered  the  beautiful  Scio  a  clotted  mass  of  blood  and 
ashes.  The  details  are  too  shocking  to  be  recited.  Forty 
thousand  women  and  children,  unhappily  saved  from  the 
general  destruction,  were  afterward  sold  in  the  market  of 
Smyrna,  and  sent  off  into  distant  and  hopeless  servitude. 
Even  on  the  wharves  of  our  own  cities,  it  has  been  said, 
have  been  sold  the  utensils  of  those  hearths  which  now 
exist  no  longer.  Of  the  whole  population  which  I  have 
mentioned,  not  above  nine  hundred  persons  were  left  living 
upon  the  island.  I  will  only  repeat,  sir,  that  these  tragical 
scenes  were  as  fully  known  at  the  Congress  of  Verona  as 
they  are  now  known  to  us ;  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  call 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  57 

on  the  powers  that  constituted  that  congress,  in  the  name 
of  conscience  and  in  the  name  of  humanity,  to  tell  us  if 
there  be  nothing  even  in  these  unparalleled  excesses  of 
Turkish  barbarity,  to  excite  a  sentiment  of  compassion ; 
nothing  which  they  regard  as  so  objectionable  as  even  the 
very  idea  of  popular  resistance  to  power. 

"  The  events  of  the  year  which  has  just  passed  by,  as 
far  as  they  have  become  known  to  us,  have  been  even  more 
favorable  to  the  Greeks  than  those  of  the  year  preceding. 
I  omit  all  details,  as  being  as  well  known  to  others  as  to 
myself.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  with  no  other  enemy  to 
contend  with,  and  no  diversion  of  his  force  to  other  objects, 
the  Porte  has  not  been  able  to  carry  the  war  into  the 
Morea,  and  that,  by  the  last  accounts,  its  armies  wrere 
acting  defensively  in  Thessaly.  I  pass  over,  also,  the 
naval  engagements  of  the  Greeks,  although  that  is  a  mode 
of  warfare  in  which  they  are  calculated  to  excel,  and  in 
which  they  have  already  performed  actions  of  such  dis 
tinguished  skill  and  bravery  as  wrould  draw  applause  upon, 
the  best  mariners  in  the  world.  The  present  state  of  the 
war  would  seem  to  be,  that  the  Greeks  possess  the  whole 
of  the  Morea,  with  the  exception  of  the  three  fortresses 
of  Patras,  Coron,  and  Modon  ;  all  Candia,  but  one  fortress; 
and  most  of  the  other  islands.  They  possess  the  citadel 
of  Athens,  Missolonghi,  and  several  other  places  in  Livadia. 
They  have  been  able  to  act  on  the  offensive,  and  to  carry 
the  war  beyond  the  isthmus.  There  is  no  reason  to  believe 
their  marine  is  weakened :  probably,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
is  strengthened.  But,  what  is  most  of  all  important,  they 
have  obtained  time  and  experience.  They  have  awakened 
a  sympathy  throughout  Europe  and  throughout  America ; 
and  they  have  formed  a  government  which  seems  suited  to 
the  emergency  of  their  condition. 

"  Sir,  they  have  done  much.    It  would  be  great  injustice 


58  THE   LIFE  AND   TIMES 

to  compare  their  achievements  with  our  own.  We  began 
our  revolution  already  possessed  of  government,  and,  com 
paratively,  of  civil  liberty.  Our  ancestors  had  for  centuries 
been  accustomed  in  a  great  measure  to  govern  themselves. 
They  were  well  acquainted  with  popular  elections  and 
legislative  assemblies,  and  the  general  principles  and  prac 
tice  of  free  governments.  They  had  little  else  to  do  than 
to  throw  off  the  paramount  authority  of  the  parent  state. 
Enough  was  still  left,  both  of  law  and  of  organization,  to 
conduct  society  in  its  accustomed  course  and  to  unite  men 
together  for  a  common  object.  The  Greeks,  of  course, 
could  act  with  little  concert  at  the  beginning :  they  were 
unaccustomed  to  the  exercise  of  power,  without  experience, 
with  limited  knowledge,  without  aid,  and  surrounded  by 
nations  which,  whatever  claims  the  Greeks  might  seem  to 
have  upon  them,  have  afforded  them  nothing  but  discou 
ragement  and  reproach.  They  have  held  out,  however, 
for  three  campaigns ;  and  that,  at  least,  is  something. 
Constantinople  and  the  northern  provinces  have  sent  forth 
thousands  of  troops :  they  have  been  defeated.  Tripoli, 
and  Algiers,  and  Egypt,  have  contributed  their  marine 
contingents :  they  have  not  kept  the  ocean.  Hordes  of 
Tartars  have  crossed  the  Bosphorus  :  they  have  died  where 
the  Persians  died.  The  powerful  monarchies  in  the  neigh 
borhood  have  denounced  their  cause,  and  admonished  them 
to  abandon  it  and  submit  to  their  fate.  They  have 
answered  them,  that,  although  two  hundred  thousand  of 
their  countrymen  have  offered  up  their  lives,  there  yet 
remain  lives  to  offer ;  and  that  it  is  the  determination  of 
all,  'yes,  of  ALL,'  to  persevere  until  they  shall  have  esta 
blished  their  liberty,  or  until  the  power  of  their  oppressors 
shall  have  relieved  them  from  the  burden  of  existence. 

"  It  may  now  be  asked,  perhaps,  whether  the  expression 
of  our  own  sympathy,  and  that  of  the  country,  may  do 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  59 

them  good.  I  hope  it  may.  It  may  give  them  courage 
and  spirit,  it  may  assure  them  of  public  regard,  teach  them 
that  they  are  not  wholly  forgotten  by  the  civilized  world, 
and  inspire  them  with  constancy  in  the  pursuit  of  their 
great  end.  At  any  rate,  sir,  it  appears  to  me  that  the 
measure  which  I  have  proposed  is  due  to  our  own  character 
and  called  for  by  our  own  duty.  When  we  shall  have  dis 
charged  that  duty,  we  may  leave  the  rest  to  the  disposition 
of  Providence. 

"  I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be  doubted  that  this  measure 
is  entirely  pacific.  I  profess  my  inability  to  perceive  that 
it  has  any  possible  tendency  to  involve  our  neutral  rela 
tions.  If  the  resolution  pass,  it  is  not  necessary  to  be 
immediately  acted  on.  It  will  not  be  acted  on  at  all, 
unless,  in  the  opinion  of  the  President,  a  proper  and  safe 
occasion  for  acting  upon  it  shall  arise.  If  we  adopt  the 
resolution  to-day,  our  relations  with  every  foreign  state 
will  be  to-morrow  precisely  what  they  now  are.  The  resolu 
tion  will  be  sufficient  to  express  our  sentiments  on  the  sub 
jects  to  which  I  have  adverted.  Useful  to  that  purpose, 
it  can  be  mischievous  to  no  purpose.  If  the  topic  were 
properly  introduced  into  the  message,  it  cannot  be  impro 
perly  introduced  into  discussion  in  this  House.  If  it  wrere 
proper — which  no  one  doubts — for  the  President  to  express 
his  opinions  upon  it,  it  cannot,  I  think,  be  improper  for  us 
to  express  ours.  The  only  certain  effect  of  this  resolution 
is  to  express,  in  a  form  usual  in  bodies  constituted  like 
this,  our  approbation  of  the  general  sentiment  of  the  mes 
sage.  Do  we  wish  to  withhold  that  approbation  ?  The 
resolution  confers  on  the  President  no  new  power,  nor  does 
it  enjoin  on  him  the  exercise  of  any  new  duty,  nor  does 
it  hasten  him  in  the  discharge  of  any  existing  duty. 
-  "  I  cannot  imagine  that  this  resolution  can  add  any  thing 
to  those  excitements  which  it  has  been  supposed,  I  think 


60  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES 

very  causelessly,  might  possibly  provoke  the  Turkish 
Government  to  acts  of  hostility.  There  is  already  the 
message,  expressing  the  hope  of  success  to  the  Greeks  and 
disaster  to  the  Turks,  in  a  much  stronger  manner  than  is 
to  be  implied  from  the  terms  of  this  resolution.  There  is 
the  correspondence  between  the  Secretary  of  State  and 
the  Greek  agent  in  London,  already  made  public,  in  which 
similar  wishes  are  expressed,  and  a  continuance  of  the 
correspondence  apparently  invited.  I  might  add  to  this 
the  unexampled  burst  of  feeling  which  this  cause  has 
called  forth  from  all  classes  of  society,  and  the  notorious 
fact  of  pecuniary  contributions  made  throughout  the 
country  for  its  aid  and  advancement.  After  all  this,  who 
ever  can  see  cause  of  danger  to  our  pacific  relations  from 
the  adoption  of  this  resolution  has  a  keener  vision  than  I 
can  pretend  to.  Sir,  there  is  no  augmented  danger ;  there 
is  no  danger.  The  question  comes  at  last  to  this,  whether, 
on  a  subject  of  this  sort,  this  House  holds  an  opinion  which 
is  worthy  to  be  expressed. 

"  Even  suppose,  sir,  an  agent  or  commissioner  were  to 
be  immediately  sent, — a  measure  which  I  myself  believe  to 
be  the  proper  one, — there  is  no  breach  of  neutrality,  nor 
any  just  cause  of  offence.  Such  an  agent,  of  course,  would 
not  be  accredited;  he  would  not  be  a  public  minister.  Tho 
object  would  be  inquiry  and  information, — inquiry  which 
we  have  a  right  to  make,  information  which  we  are  inte 
rested  to  possess.  If  a  dismemberment  of  the  Turkish 
empire  be  taking  place,  or  has  already  taken  place, — if  a 
new  state  be  rising,  or  be  already  risen,  in  the  Mediter 
ranean, — who  can  doubt  that,  without  any  breach  of  neu 
trality,  we  may  inform  ourselves  of  these  events  for  the 
government  of  our  own  concerns  ? 

"  The  Greeks  have  declared   the  Turkish   coasts   in  a" 
state  of  blockade :  may  we  not  inform  ourselves  whether 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  61 

blockade  be  nominal  or  real?  and,  of  course,  whether 
it  shall  be  regarded  or  disregarded?  The  greater  our 
trade  may  happen  to  be  with  -Smyrna,  a  consideration 
which  seems  to  have  alarmed  some  gentlemen,  the  greater 
is  the  reason,  in  my  opinion,  why  we  should  seek  to  be 
accurately  informed  of  those  events  which  may  affect  its 
safety. 

"  It  seems  to  me  impossible,  therefore,  for  any  reasonable 
man  to  imagine  that  this  resolution  can  expose  us  to  the 
resentment  of  the  Sublime  Porte. 

"  As  little  reason  is  there  for  fearing  its  consequences 
upon  the  conduct  of  the  Allied  Powers.  They  may,  very 
naturally,  dislike  our  sentiments  upon  the  subject  of  the 
Greek  revolution ;  but  what  those  sentiments  are  they  will 
much  more  explicitly  learn  in  the  President's  message  than 
in  this  resolution.  They  might,  indeed,  prefer  that  we 
should  express  no  opposition  to  the  doctrines  which  they 
have  avowed,  and  the  application  which  they  have  made 
of  those  doctrines  to  the  cause  of  Greece.  But  I  trust 
we  are  not  disposed  to  leave  them  in  any  doubt  as  to  our 
sentiments  upon  these  important  subjects.  They  have 
expressed  their  opinions,  and  do  not  call  that  expression 
of  opinion  an  interference;  in  which  respect  they  are 
right,  as  the  expression  of  opinion  in  such  cases  is  not 
such  an  interference  as  would  justify  the  Greeks  in  con 
sidering  the  powers  at  war  with  them.  For  the  same 
reason,  any  expression  which  we  may  make  of  different 
principles  and  different  sympathies  is  no  interference.  No 
one  would  call  the  President's  message  an  interference ; 
and  yet  it  is  much  stronger  in  that  respect  than  this  resolu 
tion.  If  either  of  them  could  be  construed  to  be  an  in 
terference,  no  doubt  it  would  be  improper,  at  least  it 
would  be  so  according  to  my  view  of  the  subject ;  for  the 
very  thing  which  I  have  attempted  to  resist  in  the  course 


62  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

of  these  observations  is  the  right  of  foreign  interference, 
But  neither  the  message  nor  the  resolution  has  that  cha 
racter.  There  is  not  a  power  in  Europe  that  can  suppose 
that,  in  expressing  our  opinions  on  this  occasion,  we  are 
governed  by  any  desire  of  aggrandizing  ourselves  or  ot 
injuring  others.  We  do  no  more  than  to  maintain  those 
established  principles  in  which  we  have  an  interest  in  com 
mon  with  other  nations,  and  to  resist  the  introduction  of 
new  principles  and  new  rules,  calculated  to  destroy  the 
relative  independence  of  states,  and  particularly  hostile  to 
the  whole  fabric  of  our  Government. 

"  I  close  then,  sir,  with  repeating,  that  the  object  of 
this  resolution  is  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  interesting  occa 
sion  of  the  Greek  revolution  to  make  our  protest  against 
the  doctrines  of  the  Allied  Powers,  both  as  they  are  laid 
down  in  principle  and  as  they  are  applied  in  practice. 

"  I  think  it  right,  too,  sir,  not  to  be  unseasonable  in  the 
expression  of  our  regard,  and,  as  far  as  that  goes,  in 
evincing  our  feelings  in  consonance  with  a  long  oppressed 
and  now  struggling  people.  I  am  not  of  those  who  would, 
in  the  hour  of  utmost  peril,  withhold  such  encouragement 
as  might  be  properly  and  lawfully  given,  and,  when  the 
crisis  should  be  past,  overwhelm  the  rescued  sufferer  with 
kindness  and  caresses.  The  Greeks  address  the  civilized 
world  with  a  pathos  not  easy  to  be  resisted.  They  invoke 
our  favor  by  more  moving  considerations  than  can  well 
belong  to  the  condition  of  any  other  people.  They  stretch 
out  their  arms  to  the  Christian  communities  of  the  earth, 
beseeching  them,  by  a  generous  recollection  of  their  an 
cestors,  by  the  consideration  of  their  own  desolated  and 
ruined  cities  and  villages,  by  their  wives  and  children  sold 
into  an  accursed  slavery,  by  their  own  blood,  which  they 
seem  willing  to  pour  out  like  water,  by  the  common  faith 
and  in  the  name  which  unites  all  Christians,  that  they 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  63 

would  extend  to  them  at  least  some  token  of  compassionate 
regard.'' 

Mr.  Webster  distinguished  himself  by  his  opposition  in 
Congress  to  the  tariff  of  1824.  He  condemned  it  on  the 
ground  of  expediency ;  but  his  resistance  and  that  of  the 
entire  Massachusetts  delegation  was  useless ;  the  bill  was 
passed  and  assumed  the  authority  of  law. 

In  the  fall  of  1824,  Mr.  Webster  was  again  elected  to  re 
present  Boston  in  the  national  legislature.  His  popularity 
at  this  time  at  home  may  be  inferred  from  the  significant 
and  unusual  fact  that  his  election  may  be  said  to  have  been 
almost  unanimous.  There  were  five  thousand  votes  polled; 
and  out  of  that  number  Mr.  Webster  obtained  all  except 
ten.  During  the  session  which  ensued,  Mr.  Webster  was 
Chairman  of  the  Judiciary  Committee;  and  in  that  capacity 
he  introduced  a  resolution  on  the  3d  of  March,  1825,  which 
revolutionized  the  criminal  jurisprudence  of  the  United 
States.  The  old  system,  established  by  the  act  of-  April, 
1790,  had  been  found  to  be  wholly  inadequate  to  the 
necessities  of  the  case  ;  and  contingencies  were  continually 
occurring  for  which  no  provision  had  been  made.  His  bill 
was  intended  to  provide  more  effectually  for  the  punish 
ment  of  certain  crimes  against  the  United  States.  After 
a  thorough  discussion,  it  was  passed ;  and  its  operation 
has  ever  since  been  found  to  be  most  beneficial  to  the 
interests  of  the  country. 

A  circumstance  worthy  of  note  at  this  period  of  Mr. 
Webster's  career  was  the  delivery  of  his  celebrated  ora 
tion  on  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  Bunker  Hill 
Monument, — one  of  the  most  masterly  efforts  of  eloquence 
which  modern  times  have  produced.  The  scene  on  this  oc 
casion  possessed  surpassing  interest.  The  day  was  bright 
and  the,  sky  propitious.  A  fast  multitude  assembled  at 
the  appointed  hour  around  the  speaker's  rostrum,  and 


64  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 

covered  the  memorable  mount  which  had  been  immortalized 
by  the  deadly  combat  of  departed  patriots  with  the  fell 
powers  of  a  foreign  despot.  A  large  number  of  the  mili 
tary  mixed  with  the  assemblage ;  and  among  them  waa 
seen  a  small  but  heroic  band  of  veterans,  scarred  and 
shattered  by  the  storms  of  battle,  feeble  and  emaciated 
by  the  lapse  of  years;  yet  bearing  on  their  dauntless  brows 
the  impress  of  indomitable  heroism,  and  feeling  the  con 
scious  might  of  unconquered  patriots  in  their  hearts.  They 
were  the  last  surviving  remains  of  those  who  had  fought 
in  Revolutionary  battles,  forty  of  whom  had  been  present 
and  had  engaged  in  the  conflict  on  Bunker  Hill.  As  they 
passed  along  to  the  inspiriting  sound  of  martial  melody  to 
the  scene  of  their  former  glory  and  triumph,  in  times  long 
since  gone  by,  tears  gushed  from  the  eyes  of  grateful  and 
admiring  myriads,  and  shouts  of  applause  again  and  again 
rent  the  heavens.  Among  these  crowds  were  seen  the 
bright  banners  of  many  societies  floating  on  the  breeze ;  but 
nobler  and  more  illustrious  than  them  all  were  the  stars  and 
stripes,  which  were  unfurled  to  the  free  winds  of  heaven 
and  decked  the  scene  at  every  point.  Mr.  Webster  might 
well  have  been  inspired  by  such  an  occasion  and  by  such 
a  spectacle.  He  delivered  his  oration  from  a  stage  erected 
on  the  northern  declivity  of  the  hill ;  while  the  vast 
assemblage,  covering  the  surrounding  eminences  and  vales 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  listened  to  him  in  rapt  at 
tention  ;  and  even  those  who  in  the  distance  were  unable 
to  hear  his  voice  were  deeply  impressed  with  the  imposing 
and  solemn  grandeur  of  the  scene. 

Mr.  Monroe  was  succeeded  as  President  by  John  Quincy 
Adams.  In  the  ballot  Mr.  Clay  had  thirty-seven  votes, 
and  neither  candidate  had  received  the  necessary  number. 
Mr.  Clay  then  induced  his  partisans  to  give  their  support 
to  Mr.  Adams,  by  which  coalition  the  latter  was  elected. 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  65 

Mr.  Clay  became  Secretary  of  State ;  and  from  this 
circumstance  arose  the  charge  and  the  suspicion  which 
followed  and  persecuted  the  Kentucky  Senator  even  to  the 
grave,  that  he  had  sold  his  influence  for  the  spoils  of 
office.  Of  this  accusation  it  may  safely  be  asserted  that  not 
the  slightest  evidence  for  it  has  ever  been  produced ;  and 
that  the  origin  and  the  perpetuation  of  the  slander  is  due 
more  to  the  inherent  meanness  and  suspiciousness  of  his 
calumniators  than  to  any  proof  which  they  have  ever  been 
able  to  adduce  in  support  of  the  suspicion. 

During  the  winter  of  1826,  Mr.  Webster  was  again 
Chairman  of  the  Judiciary  Committee ;  and  as  such  he 
reported  a  bill  for  the  purpose  of  reconstructing  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States.  As  originally 
organized  by  the  act  of  September,  1789,  it  had  become  in 
adequate  to  perform  the  growing  multitude  of  duties  which 
devolved  upon  it.  In  November,  1792,  the  judges  had 
themselves  addressed  a  communication  to  the  President 
on  the  subject.  In  consequence  of  this  appeal,  which  was 
submitted  to  the  consideration  of  Congress,  some  change 
had  been  made  in  the  amount  of  their  labors.  Several 
changes  were  subsequently  made  in  the  supreme  judicature 
of  the  country  ;  all  of  which  gradually  became  inadequate 
to  the  increasing  necessities  of  the  case.  Mr.  Webster's 
proposition  was  intended  to  meet  all  present  and  future 
exigencies.  He  proposed  that  the  Supreme  Court  should 
consist  of  a  chief-justice  and  nine  associate  justices;  and 
that  thenceforth  there  should  be  regular  circuit  courts  in 
the  several  districts  of  the  United  States,  consisting  of  a 
judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  and  a  district  judge  of  the 
district  in  which  the  circuit  court  should  be  held.  The 
bill  finally  passed,  and  became  the  law  of  the  land,  which 
still  operates  so  benignantly  for  the  judicial  interests  of 


66  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

the  United  States,  and  would  seem  to  be  incapable  of  further 
improvement. 

During  1826  Mr.  Webster  distinguished  himself  by  the 
delivery  of  an  oration  on  the  death  of  John  Adams,  ex- 
President  of  the  United  States,  who  expired  on  the  4th 
of  July  in  that  year  at  Quincy.  It  was  the  fiftieth  anni 
versary  of  the  Declaration  of  American  Independence.  On 
the  same  day  Mr.  Jefferson,  the  author  of  the  Declaration, 
paid  the  same  great  debt  of  nature.  The  coincidence 
was  a  most  remarkable  one ;  and  the  oration  which  he  de 
livered  at  Boston  on  the  2d  of  August,  1826,  will  always 
remain  one  of  the  most  masterly  efforts  of  modern  elo 
quence. 

In  November,  1826,  Mr.  Webster  was  again  requested 
to  become  a  candidate  for  re-election  to  the  House  of 
Representatives ;  but  a  vacancy  occurring  at  this  time  in 
the  delegation  of  Massachusetts  in  the  United  States 
Senate,  he  was  elected  to  that  high  post  by  a  large  ma 
jority  of  the  votes  of  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts.  He 
therefore  took  his  sea,t  as  a  Senator  in  the  twentieth  Con 
gress,  with  his  fame  established,  his  influence  widely  ex 
tended,  and  the  highest  expectations  entertained  of  the 
position  which  he  would  quickly  assume  among  the  most 
gifted  and  powerful  intellects  in  the  land. 

Nor  was  this  expectation  disappointed.  His  first  speech 
was  delivered  upon  a  bill  introduced  for  the  purpose  of 
affording  relief  to  the  surviving  officers  of  the  Revolution. 
He  delivered  a  very  able  oration  on  this  occasion,  which  at 
once  placed  him  in  the  first  rank  among  his  Senatorial 
associates.  The  manner  and  spirit  which  pervaded  it  may 
be  inferred  from  the  following  extract : 

"  But  it  is  known  to  be  impossible  to  carry  the  measure 
to  such  an  extent  as  to  embrace  the  militia;  and  it  is  plain, 
too,  that  the  cases  are  different.  The  bill,  as  I  have 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  67 

already  said,  confines  itself  to  those  who  served  not  oc 
casionally,  not  temporarily,  but  permanently ;  who  allowed 
themselves  to  be  counted  on  as  men  who  were  to  see  the 
contest  through,  last  as  long  as  it  might ;  and  who  have 
made  the  phrase  *  'listing  during  the  war'  a  proverbial  ex 
pression,  signifying  unalterable  devotion  to  our  cause, 
through  good  fortune  and  ill  fortune,  till  it  reached  its 
close.  This  is  a  plain  distinction  ;  and  although,  perhaps, 
I  might  wish  to  do  more,  I  see  good  ground  to  stop  here 
for  the  present,  if  we  must  stop  anywhere.  The  militia 
who  fought  at  Concord,  at  Lexington  and  at  Bunker  Hill 
have  been  alluded  to,  in  the  course  of  this  debate,  in  terms 
of  well-deserved  praise.  Be  assured,  sir,  there  could  with 
difficulty  be  found  a  man  who  drew  his  sword  or  carried 
his  musket  at  Concord,  at  Lexington,  or  at  Bunker  Hill, 
who  would  wish  you  to  reject  this  bill.  They  might  ask 
you  to  do  more,  but  never  to  refrain  from  doing  this. 
Would  to  God  they  were  assembled  here,  and  had  the  fate 
of  the  bill  in  their  own  hands !  Would  to  God  the  question 
of  its  passage  were  to  be  put  to  them  !  They  would  affirm 
it  with  a  unity  of  acclamation  that  would  rend  the  roof  of 
the  Capitol!" 


68  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Webster's  Reply  to  Mr.  Hayne — Preliminary  Circumstances — Speeches 
of  Mr.  Benton — Mr.  Hayne's  First  Speech — His  Character  and  Talents 
—Mr.  Webster's  First  Speech  in  Reply— The  Second  Speech  of  Mr. 
Hayne — Its  Character — Extract  from  it — Mr.  Webster's  Reply — In 
tense  Interest  felt  on  the  Occasion — Mr.  Webster's  Appearance  and 
Manner — The  Audience — Qualities  of  his  Great  Speech — Its  Prodigious 
ElFect  and  Power. 

THE  career  of  Mr.  Webster  in  the  United  States  Senate 
was  one  of  constantly  increasing  celebrity ;  but  his  fame 
attained  its  culmination  and  its  climax  by  the  delivery  of 
his  memorable  speech  in  reply  to  Mr.  Hayne  of  South 
Carolina,  on  the  26th  of  January,  1830.  /This  was  the 
most  glorious  achievement  of  this  great  statesman's  career. 
This  oration  is  the  masterpiece  of  all  his  performances; 
and  in  this  respect  it  resembles  the  oration  of  Demosthenes 
on  the  Crown,  or  Burke's  speech  against  Warren  Hastings : 
it  was  the  highest,  the  most  complete,  and  the  most  con 
summate  performance  of  his  gigantic  faculties.  It  is  pro 
bably  also  the  ablest  effort  of  oratory  which  modern  times 
have  produced ;  and  it  is  therefore  proper  that  we  should 
narrate  at  some  length  the  circumstances  under  which  it 
was  delivered,  and  the  results  which  were  produced  by  it. 

Andrew  Jackson  was  elected  President  of  the  United 
States  in  the  fall  of  1828  by  a  vast  majority,  which 
clearly  indicated  the  great  unpopularity  into  which  John 
Quincy  Adams  and  his  administration  had  fallen.  Mr. 
C;i.lhoun  was  chosen  Vice-President  at  the  same  time. 
The  first  session  of  the  twenty-first  Congress  'pened  in 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  C9 

December.  1829,  Mr  Calhoun  presiding  in  the  Senate 
The  disposal  of  the  public  lands  at  once  became  a  subject 
of  prominent  interest  to  the  Federal  Representatives  ^ 
and  on  the  29th  of  December  Mr.  Foote  of  Connecticut 
introduced  the  following  resolution  in  the  Senate : 

"  Resolved,  That  the  Committee  on  Public  Lands  be  in 
structed  to  inquire  and  report  the  quantity  of  public  lands 
remaining  unsold  within  each  State  and  Territory,  and 
whether  it  be  expedient  to  limit  for  a  certain  period  the 
sales  of  public  lands  to  such  lands  as  have  heretofore 
been  offered  for  sale,  and  are  now  subject  to  entry  at  the 
minimum  price.  And  also,  whether  the  office  of  Sur 
veyor-General,  and  some  of  the  landed  offices,  may  not  be 
abolished  without  detriment  to  the  public  service." 

To  this  resolution  an  amendment  was  subsequently 
added  to  the  effect,  "whether  it  be  expedient  to  adopt 
measures  to  hasten  the  sales  and  extend  more  rapidly  the 
surveys  of  the  public  lands." 

During  the  discussion  which  ensued  upon  this  resolu 
tion,  many  offensive  allusions  were  made  by  Southern 
and  Western  members,  in  reference  to  the  policy  which 
had  been  pursued  by  other  portions  of  the  Confederacy. 
Several  weeks  were  employed  in  the  discussion.  The 
great  difference  of  principle  which  seemed  to  lie  at  the 
foundation  of  the  opposition  of  sentiment  which  prevailed 
was,  that  one  party  defended  national  views  of  the  Con 
stitution,  and  the  other  maintained  the  sectional  doctrine 
of  State  Rights.  Mr.  Foote,  having  expounded  and  de 
fended  his  resolution  briefly,  was  answered  by  Mr.  Benton 
in  a  furious  tirade  against  the  New  England  States,  charg 
ing  them  with  a  premeditated  design  to  encroach  upon  the 
interests  of  the  West.  The  subject  was  then  postponed 
for  further  consideration  till  the  13th  of  January.  Mr. 
Benton  again  took  part  in  the  debate  on  the  18th,  repeat- 


70  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

ing  his  attacks  upon  New  England  and  her  representatives. 
On  the  following  day  Mr.  Holmes,  of  Maine,  and  several 
other  Northern  Senators,  replied  to  the  charges  of  Mr. 
Benton.  These  were  followed  by  a  speech  from  Mr. 
Hayne,  of  South  Carolina,  of  the  same  drift  and  spirit 
which  had  been  displayed  by  Mr.  Benton. 

Mr.  Hayne  was  then  one  of  the  younger  members  of 
the  Senate,  and  a  man  of  ability.  He  was  a  special 
favorite  of  Mr.  Calhoun,  whose  entire  system  of  policy 
and  opinion  he  had  adopted  and  uniformly  defended. 
His  manner  of  speaking  was  rapid,  declamatory,  yet  not 
devoid  of  brilliancy  and  force.  He  was  deficient  in  that 
weight  and  impressiveness  which  alone  belong  to  men  of 
greater  calibre  ;  though,  while  speaking,  few  men  could  ex 
ceed  him  in  the  hold  with  which  his  fluent  and  graceful 
declamation  retained  the  attention  and  thrilled  the  feel 
ings  of  an  audience.  There  was  also  frequently  a  degree 
of  sarcastic  bitterness  in  his  remarks  which  inflammable 
natures  generally  display,  and  which  often  leads  to  more 
serious  consequences  than  are  intended  or  even  anticipated. 
Mr.  Hayne's  speech  on  this  occasion  was  one  of  his  best 
efforts.  On  the  next  day,  January  20th,  Mr.  Webster 
made  a  reply  to  him,  which  was  chiefly  of  a  dry  and 
argumentative  character,  but  serving  as  a  complete  reply 
to  the  attack  on  the  New  England  States  which  the 
speech  of  Mr.  Hayne  contained.  He  defended  the  policy 
which  New  England  had  always  pursued  in  reference  to 
the  Western  and  Southern  States.  In  the  course  of  his 
argument  he  used  the  following  language : 

"  And  here,  sir,  at  the  epoch  of  1794,  let  us  pause  and 
survey  the  scene  as  it  actually  existed  thirty-five  years 
ago.  Let  us  look  back  and  behold  it.  Over  all  that  is 
now  Ohio  there  then  stretched  one  vast  wilderness,  un 
broken  except  by  two  small  spots  of  civilized  culture,  the 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  71 

one  at  Marietta  and  the  other  at  Cincinnati.  At  these 
little  openings,  hardly  each  a  pin's  point  upon  the  map, 
the  arm  of  the  frontier-man  had  levelled  the  forest  and  let 
in  the  sun.  These  little  patches  of  earth,  themselves 
almost  overshadowed  by  the  boughs  of  that  wilderness 
which  had  stood  and  perpetuated  itself,  from  century  to 
century,  ever  since  the  creation,  were  all  that  had  then 
been  rendered  verdant  by  the  hand  of  man.  In  an  extent 
of  hundreds  and  thousands  of  square  miles,  no  other  sur 
face  of  smiling  green  attested  the  presence  of  civilization. 
The  hunter's  path  crossed  mighty  rivers,  flowing  in  soli 
tary  grandeur,  whose  sources  lay  in  remote  and  unknown 
regions  of  the  wilderness.  It  struck  upon  the  north  on  a 
vast  inland  sea,  over  which  the  wintry  tempests  raged  as 
on  the  ocean :  all  around  was  bare  creation.  It  was  fresh, 
untouched,  unbounded,  magnificent  wilderness.  And,  sir, 
what  is  it  now  ?  Is  it  imagination  only,  or  can  it  possibly 
be  fact,  that  presents  such  a  change  as  surprises  and  as 
tonishes  us,  when  we  turn  our  eyes  to  what  Ohio  now  is  ? 
Is  it  reality,  or  a  dream,  that,  in  so  short  a  period  even  as 
thirty-five  years,  there  has  sprung  up,  on  the  same  surface, 
an  independent  State  with  a  million  of  people?  A  million 
of  inhabitants !  an  amount  of  population  greater  than 
that  of  all  the  cantons  of  Switzerland ;  equal  to  one-third 
of  all  the  people  of  the  United  States  when  they  under 
took  to  accomplish  their  independence.  This  new  member 
of  the  Republic  has  already  left  far  behind  her  a  majority 
of  the  old  States.  She  is  now  by  the  side  of  Virginia 
and  Pennsylvania,  and,  in  point  of  numbers,  will  shortly 
admit  no  equal  but  New  York  herself.  If,  sir,  we  may 
judge  of  measures  by  their  results,  what  lessons  do  these 
facts  read  us  upon  the  policy  of  the  Government  ?  What 
inferences  do  they  authorize  upon  the  general  question  of 
kindness  or  unkindness  ?" 


72  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

But  Mr.  Webster's  opponents  were  neither  satisfied  nor 
silenced  by  his  manly  and  able  defence  of  his  constituents. 
Mr.  Benton  rose  as  soon  as  Mr.  Webster  took  his  seat, 
and  again  assailed  New  England  with  his  usual  severity 
and  acrimony.  Mr.  Hayne  followed  Mr.  Benton,  and 
then  delivered,  on  the  25th  of  January,  that  great  speech 
which  called  forth  in  reply  the  still  greater  performance 
of  Mr.  Webster.  It  was  like  the  oration  of  JEschines 
against  the  Crown,  which  elicited  the  masterly  and  un 
equalled  achievement  of  Demosthenes  in  answer  for  the 
Crown. 

The  purpose  of  this  most  labored  oration  of  Mr.  Hayne, 
in  the  delivery  of  which  he  exhausted  his  utmost  abilities, 
was  to  set  forth  a  defence  of  the  peculiar  doctrine  of  South 
.Carolina,  which  claimed  the  reserved  right  for  any  State 
| to  nullify  the  enactments  of  the  general  Government 
whenever  in  her  opinion  they  were  unconstitutional, — so 
(far  as  her  own  territorial  limits  wrere  concerned.  He  also 
'eulogized  the  patriotic  services  of  the  South  in  the  Revo 
lutionary  struggle,  and  detracted  from  the  magnitude  and 
importance  of  those  wrhich  had  then  been  rendered  by  New 
England.  His  speech  occupied  two  hours  and  a  half  in 
the  delivery,  and  was  regarded  as  a  splendid  effort  of 
parliamentary  eloquence.  The  Southern  members  were 
in  raptures  in  consequence  of  it.  Mr.  Calhoun,  the  Vice- 
President,  who  occupied  the  Chair  of  the  Senate  during 
its  delivery,  was  highly  gratified,  and  took  no  pains  to 
conceal  his  pleasurable  sensations.  The  representatives 
from  New  England  seemed  to  be  intimidated  and  discon 
certed  by  this  fierce  and  bold  attack,  and  to  despair  of 
their  cause.  As  this  speech  of  Mr.  Hayne  is  so  remark 
able  in  itself,  and  is  so  closely  connected  with  the  most 
important  incident  of  Mr.  Webster's  whole  career,  we  will 
introduce  an  extract  from  it.  It  will  serve  to  explain 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  73 

more  clearly  the  singular  power  of  that  vast  avalanche 
of  argument  and  declamation  which  it  drew  forth  from  the 
great  champion  of  New  England  in  reply  to  it : 

"  Sir,  the  Senator  from  Massachusetts,  on  that,  the 
proudest  day  of  his  life,  like  a  mighty  giant,  bore  away 
upon  his  shoulders  the  pillars  of  the  temple  of  error  and 
delusion,  escaping  himself  unhurt,  and  leaving  his  adversa 
ries  overwhelmed  in  its  ruins.  Then  it  Avas  that  he  erected 
to  free  trade  a  beautiful  and  enduring  monument,  and  *  in 
scribed  the  marble  with  his  name.'  Mr.  President,  it  is 
with  pain  and  regret  that  I  now  go  forward  to  the  next 
great  era  in  the  political  life  of  that  gentleman,  when  he 
was  found  on  this  floor,  supporting,  advocating,  and  finally 
voting  for,  the  tariff  of  1828, — that  '  bill  of  abominations.' 
By  that  act,  sir,  the  Senator  from  Massachusetts  has  de 
stroyed  the  labors  of  his  whole  life,  and  given  a  wound  to 
the  cause  of  free  trade  never  to  be  healed.  Sir,  when  I 
recollect  the  position  which  that  gentleman  once  occupied, 
and  that  which  he  now  holds  in  public  estimation,  in  rela 
tion  to  this  subject,  it  is  not  at  all  surprising  that  the  tariff 
should  be  hateful  to  his  ears.  Sir,  if  I  had  erected  to  my 
own  fame  so  proud  a  monument  as  that  which  the  gentle 
man  built  up  in  1824,  and  I  could  have  been  tempted  to 
destroy  it  with  my  own  hands,  I  should  hate  the  voice  that 
should  ring  '  the  accursed  tariff'  in  my  ears.  I  doubt  not, 
the  gentleman  feels  very  much  in  relation  to  the  tariff  as 
a  certain  knight  did  to  '  instinct,'  and,  with  him,  would  be 
disposed  to  exclaim, — 

'Ah !  no  more  of  that,  Hal,  an  thou  lovest  me.' 

"  But,  Mr.  President,  to  be  more  serious  :  what  are  we 
of  the  South  to  think  of  what  we  have  heard  this  day? 
The  Senator  from  Massachusetts  tells  us  that  the  tariff  is 
not  an  Eastern  measure,  and  treats  it  as  if  the  East  had 

7 


74  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 

no  interest  in  it.  The  Senator  from  Missouri  insists  it  is 
not  a  Western  measure,  and  that  it  has  done  no  good  to 
the  West.  The  South  comes  in,  and,  in  the  most  earnest 
manner,  represents  to  you  that  this  measure,  which  we  are 
told  '  is  of  no  value  to  the  East  or  the  West,'  is  '  utterly 
destructive  of  our  interests.'  We  represent  to  you  that  it 
has  spread  ruin  and  devastation  through  the  land,  and 
prostrated  our  hopes  in  the  dust.  We  solemnly  declare 
that  we  believe  the  system  to  be  wholly  unconstitutional, 
and  a  violation  of  the  compact  between  the  States  and  the 
Union ;  and  our  brethren  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  our  com 
plaints,  and  refuse  to  relieve  us  from  a  system  '  which  not 
enriches  them,  but  makes  us  poor  indeed.'  Good  God ! 
Mr.  President,  has  it  come  to  this?  Do  gentlemen  hold 
the  feelings  and  wishes  of  their  brethren  at  so  cheap  a 
rate,  that  they  refuse  to  gratify  them  at  so  small  a  price  ? 
Do  gentlemen  value  so  lightly  the  peace  and  harmony  of 
the  country,  that  they  will  not  yield  a  measure  of  this 
description  to  the  affectionate  entreaties  and  earnest 
remonstrances  of  their  friends  ?  Do  gentlemen  estimate 
the  value  of  the  Union  at  so  low  a  price,  that  they  will  not 
even  make  one  effort  to  bind  the  States  together  with  the 
cords  of  affection  ?  And  has  it  come  to  this  ?  Is  this  the 
spirit  in  which  this  Government  is  to  be  administered  ?  If 
so,  let  me  tell  gentlemen,  the  seeds  of  dissolution  are 
already  sown,  and  our  children  will  reap  the  bitter  fruit. 

"The  honorable  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  (Mr. 
Webster,)  while  he  exonerates  me  personally  from  the 
charge,  intimates  that  there  is  a  party  in  the  country  who 
are  looking  to  disunion.  Sir,  if  the  gentleman  had  stopped 
there,  the  accusation  would  have  '  passed  by  me  like 
the  idle  wind,  which  I  regard  not.'  But  when  he  goes  on 
to  give  to  his  accusation  ( a  local  habitation  and  a  name,' 
by  quoting  the  expression  of  a  distinguished  citizen  of 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  75 

South  Carolina,  (Dr.  Cooper,)  'that  it  was  time  for  the 
South  to  calculate  the  value  of  the  Union,'  and,  in  the  lan 
guage  of  the  bitterest  sarcasm,  adds,  '  Surely  then  the 
Union  cannot  last  longer  than  July,  1831,'  it  is  impossible 
to  mistake  either  the  allusion  or  the  object  of  the  gentle 
man.  Now,  Mr.  President,  I  call  upon  every  one  who 
hears  me  to  bear  witness  that  this  controversy  is  not  of  my 
seeking.  The  Senate  will  do  me  the  justice  to  remember 
that,  at  the  time  this  unprovoked  and  uncalled-for  attack 
was  made  on  the  South,  not  one  word  had  been  uttered  by 
me  in  disparagement  of  New  England ;  nor  had  I  made 
the  most  distant  allusion  either  to  the  Senator  from  Mas 
sachusetts  or  the  State  he  represents.  But,  sir,  that  gen 
tleman  has  thought  proper,  for  purposes  best  known  to 
himself,  to  strike  the  South,  through  me,  the  most  unworthy 
of  her  servants.  He  has  crossed  the  border,  he  has  invaied 
the  State  of  South  Carolina,  is  making  war  upon  her 
citizens,  and  endeavoring  to  overthrow  her  principles  and 
her  institutions.  Sir,  when  the  gentleman  provokes  me  to 
such  a  conflict,  I  meet  him  at  the  threshold ;  I  will  struggle, 
while  I  have  life,  for  our  altars  and  our  firesides ;  and,  if 
God  gives  me  strength,  I  will  drive  back  the  invader  dis 
comfited.  Nor  shall  I  stop  there.  If  the  gentleman  pro 
vokes  the  war,  he  shall  have  war.  Sir,  I  will  not  stop  at 
the  border ;  I  will  carry  the  war  into  the  enemy's  territory, 
and  not  consent  to  lay  down  my  arms  until  I  have  obtained 
1  indemnity  for  the  past  and  security  for  the  future.'  It  is 
with  unfeigned  reluctance,  Mr.  President,  that  I  enter  upon 
the  performance  of  this  part  of  my  duty ;  I  shrink  almost 
instinctively  from  a  course,  however  necessary,  which  may 
have  a  tendency  to  excite  sectional  feelings  and  sectional 
jealousies.  But,  sir,  the  task  has  been  forced  upon  me ; 
and  I  proceed  right  onward  to  the  performance  of  my  duty. 
Be  the  consequences  what  they  may,  the  responsibility  is 


76  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

with  those  who  have  imposed  upon  me  this  necessity.  The 
Senator  from  Massachusetts  has  thought  proper  to  cast  the 
first  stone ;  and  if  he  shall  find,  according  to  a  homely 
adage,  4that  he  lives  in  a  glass  house,'  on  his  head  be  the 
consequences.  The  gentleman  has  made  a  great  flourish 
about  his  fidelity  to  Massachusetts.  I  shall  make  no  pro 
fessions  of  zeal  for  the  interests  and  honor  of  South  Caro 
lina  :  of  that  my  constituents  shall  judge.  If  there  be 
one  State  in  the  Union,  Mr.  President,  (and  I  say  it  not  in 
a  boastful  spirit,)  that  may  challenge  comparison  with  any 
other,  for  a  uniform,  zealous,  ardent,  and  uncalculating 
devotion  to  the  Union,  that  State  is  South  Carolina.  Sir, 
from  the  very  commencement  of  the  Revolution  up  to  this 
hour,  there  is  no  sacrifice,  however  great,  she  has  not 
cheerfully  made,  no  service  she  has  ever  hesitated  to  per 
form.  She  has  adhered  to  you  in  your  prosperity ;  but  in 
your  adversity  she  has  clung  to  you  with  more  than  filial 
affection.  No  matter  what  was  the  condition  of  her 
domestic  affairs,  though  deprived  of  her  resources,  divided 
by  parties,  or  surrounded  with  difficulties,  the  call  of  the 
country  has  been  to  her  as  the  voice  of  God.  Domestic 
discord  ceased  at  the  sound ;  every  man  became  at  once 
reconciled  to  his  brethren,  and  the  sons  of  Carolina  were 
all  seen  crowding  together  to  the  temple,  bringing  their 
gifts  to  the  altar  of  their  common  country. 

"What,  sir,  was  the  conduct  of  the  South  during  the 
Revolution  ?  Sir,  I  honor  New  England  for  her  conduct 
in  that  glorious  struggle.  But  great  as  is  the  praise  which 
belongSjjto  her,  I  think,  at  least,  equal  honor  is  due  to  the 
South.  They  espoused  the  quarrel  of  their  brethren  with 
a  generous  zeal,  which  did  not  suffer  them  to  stop  to  cal 
culate  their  interest  in  the  dispute.  Favorites  of  the 
mother-country,  possessed  of  neither  ships  nor  seamen  to 
create  a  commercial  rivalship,  they  might  have  found  in 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  77 

their  situation  a  guaranty  that  their  trade  would  be  forever 
fostered  and  protected  by  Great  Britain.  But,  trampling 
on  all  considerations  either  of  interest  or  of  safety,  they 
rushed  into  the  conflict,  and,  fighting  for  principle,  perilled 
all,  in  the  sacred  cause  of  freedom.  Never  was  there 
exhibited  in  the  history  of  the  world  higher  examples  of 
noble  daring,  dreadful  suffering,  and  heroic  endurance, 
than  by  the  Whigs  of  Carolina  during  the  Revolution. 
The  whole  State,  from  the  mountains  to  the  sea,  was  over 
run  by  an  overwhelming  force  of  the  enemy.  The  fruits 
of  industry  perished  on  the  spot  where  they  were  pro 
duced,  or  were  consumed  by  the  foe.  The  '  plains  of 
Carolina'  drank  up  the  most  precious  blood  of  her  citizens. 
Black  and  smoking  ruins  marked  the  places  which  had 
been  the  habitations  of  her  children.  Driven  from  their 
homes  into  the  gloomy  and  almost  impenetrable  swamps, 
even  there  the  spirit  of  liberty  survived,  and  South  Caro 
lina  (sustained  by  the  example  of  her  Sumpters  and  her 
Marions)  proved,  by  her  conduct,  that  though  her  soil 
might  be  overrun,  the  spirit  of  her  people  was  invincible. 

"But,  sir,  our  country  was  soon  called  upon  to  engage 
in  another  revolutionary  struggle,  and  that  too,  was  a 
struggle  for  principle.  I  mean  the  political  revolution 
which  dates  back  to  '98,  and  which,  if  it  had  not  been 
successfully  achieved,  would  have  left  us  none  of  the  fruits 
of  the  Revolution  of  76.  The  Revolution  of  '98  restored 
the  Constitution,  rescued  the  liberty  of  the  citizen  from 
the  grasp  of  those  who  were  aiming  at  its  life,  and,  in  the 
emphatic  language  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  <  saved  the  Constitu 
tion  at  its  last  gasp.'  And  by  whom  was  it  achieved? 
By  the  South,  sir,  aided  only  by  the  Democracy  of  the 
Korth  and  West. 

"  I  come  now  to  the  war  of  1812, — a  war  which,  I  well 
remember,  was  called  in  derision  (while  its  event  was 

7* 


78  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

doubtful)  the  Southern  War,  and  sometimes  the  Carolina 
War ;  but  which  is  now  universally  acknowledged  to  have 
done  more  for  the  honor  and  prosperity  of  the  country 
than  all  other  events  in  our  history  put  together.  What, 
sir,  were  the  objects  of  that  war  ?  i  Eree  trade  and 
sailors'  rights  !'  It  was  for  the  protection  of  Northern 
shipping  and  New  England  seamen  that  the  country  flew 
to  arms.  What  interest  had  the  South  in  that  contest  ? 
If  they  had  sat  down  coldly  to  calculate  the  value  of  their 
interests  involved  in  it,  they  would  have  found  that  they 
had  every  thing  to  lose,  and  nothing  to  gain.  But,  sir, 
with  that  generous  devotion  to  country  so  characteristic 
of  the  South,  they  only  asked  if  the  rights  of  any  portion 
of  their  fellow-citizens  had  been  invaded ;  and  when  told 
that  Northern  ships  and  New  England  seamen  had  been 
arrested  on  the  common  highway  of  nations,  they  felt  that 
the  honor  of  their  country  was  assailed;  and  acting  on 
that  exalted  sentiment  '  which  feels  a  stain  like  a  wound,' 
they  resolved  to  seek,  in  open  war,  for  a  redress  of  those 
injuries  which  it  did  not  become  freemen  to  endure.  Sir, 
the  whole  South,  animated  as  by  a  common  impulse,  cor 
dially  united  in  declaring  and  promoting  that  war.  South 
Carolina  sent  to  your  councils,  as  the  advocates  and  sup 
porters  of  that  war,  the  noblest  of  her  sons.  How  they 
fulfilled  that  trust  let  a  grateful  country  tell.  Not  a  mea 
sure  was  adopted,  not  a  battle  fought,  not  a  victory  won, 
which  contributed  in  any  degree  to  the  success  of  that 
war,  to  which  Southern  counsels  and  Southern  valor  did 
not  largely  contribute.  Sir,  since  South  Carolina  is  as 
sailed,  I  must  be  suffered  to  speak  it  to  her  praise,  that  at 
the  very  moment  when,  in  one  quarter,  we  heard  it  so 
lemnly  proclaimed,  '  that  it  did  not  become  a  religious  and 
moral  people  to  rejoice  at  the  victories  of  our  army  or  our 
navy,'  her  Legislature  unanimously 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  79 

"  l Resolved,  That  we  will  cordially  support  the  Govern 
ment  in  the  vigorous  prosecution  of  the  war,  until  a  peace 
can  be  obtained  on  honorable  terras,  and  we  will  cheerfully 
submit  to  every  privation  that  may  be  required  of  us,  b} 
our  Government,  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  object.' 

"  South  Carolina  redeemed  that  pledge.  She  threw 
open  her  treasury  to  the  Government.  She  put  at  the 
absolute  disposal  of  the  officers  of  the  United  States  all 
that  she  possessed, — her  men,  her  money,  and  her  arms. 
She  appropriated  half  a  million  of  dollars,  on  her  own 
account,  in  defence  of  her  maritime  frontier,  ordered  a 
brigade  of  State  troops  to  be  raised,  and,  when  left  to  pro 
tect  herself  by  her  own  means,  never  suffered  the  enemy 
to  touch  her  soil,  without  being  instantly  driven  off  or 
captured. 

"  Such,  sir,  was  the  conduct  of  the  South — such  the  con 
duct  of  my  own  State — in  that  dark  hour  i  which  tried 
men's  souls.' 

"  When  I  look  back  and  contemplate  the  spectacle  ex 
hibited  at  that  time  in  another  quarter  of  the  Union, — • 
when  I  think  of  the  conduct  of  certain  portions  of  New 
England,  and  remember  the  part  which  was  acted  on  that 
memorable  occasion  by  the  political  associates  of  the  gen 
tleman  from  Massachusetts, — nay,  when  I  follow  that  gen 
tleman  into  the  councils  of  the  nation,  and  listen  to  his 
voice  during  the  darkest  period  of  the  war, — I  am  indeed 
astonished  that  he  should  venture  to  touch  upon  the  topics 
which  he  has  introduced  into  this  debate.  South  Carolina 
reproached  by  Massachusetts  !  And  from  whom  does  the 
accusation  come  ?  Not  from  the  Democracy  of  New  Eng 
land  ;  for  they  have  been  in  times  past,  as  they  are  now, 
the  friends  and  allies  of  the  South.  No,  sir :  the  accusa 
tion  comes  from  that  party  whose  acts,  during  the  most 
trying  arid  eventful  period  of  our  national  history,  were  of 


80  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

such  a  character  that  their  own  Legislature,  but  a  few 
years  ago,  actually  blotted  them  out  from  their  records,  as 
a  stain  upon  the  honor  of  the  country.  But  how  can  they 
ever  be  blotted  out  from  the  recollection  of  any  one  who 
had  a  heart  to  feel,  a  mind  to  comprehend,  and  a  memory 
to  retain,  the  events  of  that  day  ?  Sir,  I  shall  not  attempt 
to  write  the  history  of  the  party  in  New  England  to  which 
I  have  alluded, — the  war-party  in  peace,  and  the  peace- 
party  in  war.  That  task  I  shall  leave  to  some  future 
biographer  of  Nathan  Dane ;  and  I  doubt  not  it  will  be  found 
quite  easy  to  prove  that  the  peace-party  of  Massachusetts 
were  the  only  defenders  of  their  country  during  their  war, 
and  actually  achieved  all  our  victories  by  land  and  sea. 
In  the  mean  time,  sir,  and  until  that  history  shall  be  writ 
ten,  I  propose,  with  the  feeble  and  glimmering  lights  which 
I  possess,  to  review  the  conduct  of  this  party,  in  connec 
tion  with  the  war  and  the  events  which  immediately  pre 
ceded  it. 

"  It  will  be  recollected,  sir,  that  our  great  causes  of 
quarrel  with  Great  Britain  were  her  depredations  on 
Northern  commerce,  and  the  impressment  of  New  England 
seamen.  From  every  quarter  we  were  called  upon  for 
protection.  Importunate  as  the  West  is  now  represented 
to  be  on  another  subject,  the  importunity  of  the  East  on 
that  occasion  was  far  greater.  I  hold  in  my  hands  the 
evidence  of  the  fact.  Here  are  petitions,  memorials,  and 
remonstrances  from  all  parts  of  New  England,  setting  forth 
the  injustice,  the  oppressions,  the  depredations,  the  insults, 
the  outrages,  committed  by  Great  Britain  against  the  un 
offending  commerce  and  seamen  of  New  England,  and 
calling  upon  Congress  for  redress.  Sir,  I  cannot  stop  to 
read  these  memorials.  In  that  from  Boston,  after  stating 
the  alarming  and  extensive  condemnation  of  our  vessels  by 
Great  Britain,  which  threatened  *  to  sweep  our  commerce 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  81 

from  the  face  of  the  ocean,'  and  l  to  involve  our  merchants 
in  bankruptcy,'  they  call  upon  the  Government  'to  assert 
our  rights,  and  to  adopt  such  measures  as  will  support  tha 
dignity  and  honor  of  the  United  States.' 

"  From  Salem  we  heard  a  language  still  more  decisive  : 
they  call  explicitly  for  '  an  appeal  to  arms,'  and  pledge* 
their  lives  and  property  in  support  of  any  measures  which 
Congress  might  adopt.  From  Newburyport  an  appeal 
was  made  '  to  the  firmness  and  justice  of  the  Government 
to  obtain  compensation  and  protection.'  It  was  here,  I 
think,  that,  when  the  war  was  declared,  it  was  resolved  Ho 
resist  our  own  Government  even  unto  blood.'  (Olive- 
Branch,  p.  101.) 

"  In  other  quarters  the  common  language  of  that  day 
was,  that  our  commerce  and  our  seamen  were  entitled  to 
protection,  and  that  it  was  the  duty  of  the  Government 
to  a.fford  it  at  every  hazard.  The  conduct  of  Great 
Britain,  we  were  then  told,  was  '  an  outrage  upon  our 
national  independence.'  These  clamors,  which  commenced 
as  early  as  January,  1806,  were  continued  up  to  1812. 
In  a  message  from  the  Governor  of  one  of  the  New  Eng 
land  States,  as  late  as  the  10th  October,  1811,  this  lan 
guage  is  held :  '  A  manly  and  decisive  course  has  become 
indispensable;  a  course  to  satisfy  foreign  nations  that, 
while  we  desire  peace,  we  have  the  means  and  the  spirit 
to  repel  aggression.  "We  are  false  to  ourselves  when  our 
commerce,  or  our  territory,  is  invaded  with  impunity.' 

"  About  this  time,  however,  a  remarkable  change  was 
observable  in  the  tone  and  temper  of  those  who  had  been 
endeavoring  to  force  the  country  into  a  war.  The  lan 
guage  of  complaint  was  changed  into  that  of  insult,  and 
calls  for  protection  converted  into  reproaches.  '  Smoke ! 
smoke!'  says  one  writer:  'my  life  on  it,  our  executive 
have  no  more  idea  of  declaring  war  than  my  grandmother.' 


82  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

1  The  committee  of  ways  and  means,'  says  another,  'have 
come  out  with  their  Pandora's  box  of  taxes ;  and  yet 
nobody  dreams  of  war.'  '  Congress  do  not  mean  to  de 
clare  war:  they  dare  not.'  But  why  multiply  examples? 
An  honorable  member  of  the  other  house,  from  the  city 
of  Boston,  [Mr.  Quincy,]  in  a  speech  delivered  on  the  3d 
of  April,  1812,  says,  'Neither  promises,  nor  threats,  nor 
asseverations,  nor  oaths,  will  make  me  believe  that  you 
will  go  to  war.  The  navigation  States  are  sacrificed,  and 
the  spirit  and  character  of  the  country  prostrated  by  fear 
and  avarice.'  'You  cannot,'  said  the  same  gentleman,  on 
another  occasion,  'be  kicked  into  a  war.' 

"  Well,  sir,  the  war  at  length  came ;  and  what  did  we 
behold  ?  The  very  men  who  had  been  for  six  years 
clamorous  for  war,  and  for  whose  protection  it  was  waged, 
became  at  once  equally  clamorous  against  it.  They  had 
received  a  miraculous  visitation ;  a  new  light  suddenly 
beamed  upon  their  minds ;  the  scales  fell  from  their  eyes, 
and  it  was  discovered  that  the  wrar  was  declared  from 
' subserviei*cy  to  France;'  and  that  Congress,  and  the 
executive,  '  had  sold  themselves  to  Napoleon  ;'  that  Great 
Britain  had,  in  fact,  '  done  us  no  essential  injury  ;'  that 
she  was  'the  bulwark  of  our  religion;'  that  where  'she 
took  one  of  our  ships  she  protected  twenty;'  and  that,  if 
Great  Britain  had  impressed  a  few  of  our  seamen,  it  was 
because  '  she  could  not  distinguish  them  from  her  own.' 
And  so  far  did  this  spirit  extend,  that  a  committee  of  the 
Massachusetts  Legislature  actually  fell  to  calculation,  and 
discovered,  to  their  infinite  satisfaction,  but  to  the  astonish 
ment  of  all  the  world  besides,  that  only  eleven  Massachu 
setts  sailors  had  ever  been  impressed.  Never  shall  I 
forget  the  appeals  that  had  been  made  to  the  sympathies 
of  the  South  in  behalf  of  the  '  thousands  of  impressed 
Americans'  who  had  been  torn  from  their  families  and 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  83 

friends,  and  *  immured  in  the  floating  dungeons  of  Britain.' 
The  most  touching  pictures  were  drawn  of  the  hard  con 
dition  of  the  American  sailor,  i  treated  like  a  slave,' 
forced  to  fight  the  battles  of  his  enemy,  l  lashed  to  the 
mast,  to  be  shot  at  like  a  dog.'  But,  sir,  the  very  moment 
•we  had  taken  up  arms  in  their  defence,  it  was  discovered 
that  all  these  were  mere  '  fictions  of  the  brain,'  and  that 
the  whole  number  in  the  State  of  Massachusetts  was  but 
eleven  ;  and  that  even  these  had  been  i  taken  by  mistake.' 
Wonderful  discovery !  The  Secretary  of  State  had  col 
lected  authentic  lists  of  no  less  than  six  thousand  im 
pressed  Americans.  Lord  Castlereagh  himself  acknow 
ledged  sixteen  hundred.  Calculations  on  the  basis  of  the 
number  found  on  board  of  the  Guerriere,  the  Macedonian, 
the  Java,  and  other  British  ships,  (captured  by  the  skill 
and  gallantry  of  those  heroes  whose  achievements  are  the 
treasured  monuments  of  their  country's  glory,)  fixed  the 
number  at  seven  thousand  ;  and  yet,  it  seems,  Massachu 
setts  had  lost  but  eleven  !  Eleven  Massachusetts  sailors 
taken  by  mistake  !  A  cause  of  war,  indeed  !  Their  ships, 
too,  the  capture  of  which  had  threatened  '  universal  bank 
ruptcy,' — it  was  discovered  that  Great  Britain  was  their 
friend  and  protector :  '  where  she  had  taken  one  she  had 
protected  twenty.'  Then  was  the  discovery  made  that 
subserviency  to  France,  a  hostility  to  commerce,  (  a  de 
termination,  on  the  part  of  the  South  and  West,  to  break 
down  the  Eastern  States,'  and  especially  (as  reported  by  a 
committee  of  the  Massachusetts  Legislature)  '  to  force  the 
sons  of  commerce  to  populate  the  wilderness,'  were  the 
true  causes  of  the  war.  (Olive-Branch,  pp.  134,  291.)  But 
let  us  look  a  little  further  into  the  conduct  of  the  peace- 
party  of  New  England  at  that  important  crisis.  Whatever 
difference  of  opinion  might  have  existed  as  to  the  causes 
of  the  war,  the  country  had  a  right  to  expect  that,  when 


84  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES 

once  involved  in  the  contest,  all  America  would  have 
cordially  united  in  its  support.  Sir,  tli»*  war  effected,  in 
its  progress,  a  union  of  all  parties  at  the  South.  But  not 
so  in  New  England  :  there  great  efforts  were  made  to  stir 
up  the  minds  of  the  people  to  oppose  it.  Nothing  was 
left  undone  to  embarrass  the  financial  operations  of  the 
Government,  to  prevent  the  enlistment  of  troops,  to  keep 
back  the  men  and  money  of  New  England  from  the  ser 
vice  of  the  Union,  to  force  the  President  from  his  seat. 
Yes,  sir,  'the  island  of  Elba,  or  a  halter!'  were  the 
alternatives  they  presented  to  the  excellent  and  venerable 
James  Madison.  Sir,  the  war  was  further  opposed  by 
carrying  on  illicit  trade  with  the  enemy,  by  permitting 
that  enemy  to  establish  herself  on  the  very  soil  of  Massa 
chusetts,  and  by  opening  a  free  trade  between  Great 
Britain  and  America,  with  a  separate  custom-house." 

To  this  speech  of  Mr.  Hayne,  Mr.  Webster  rose  to 
reply  in  the  Senate,  on  Tuesday,  January  26th  1830. 
The  expectation  of  the  public  had  been  elevated  to  the 
highest  possible  pitch.  Some  of  the  friends  of  Mr.  Hayne 
were  enthusiastic  in  their  hopes  ;  others  were  more  wisely 
desponding.  Mr.  Iredell,  one  of  these,  a  Senator  from 
South  Carolina,  remarked,  speaking  of  Mr.  Hayne,  "He 
has  started  the  lion ;  but  wait  till  we  hear  him  roar  and 
feel  his  claws."  Mr.  Webster's  friends  were  hopeful  and 
confident  of  the  issue ;  and  he  himself  exhibited  that 
calm  and  serene  manner  which  he  generally  displayed, 
^.hat  mens  cequa  in  arduis  which  uniformly  characterizes 
true  greatness.  He  was  heard  by  a  friend  to  laugh  to 
himself  after  returning  home  at  the  conclusion  of  Mr. 
Hayne's  speech ;  and  being  asked  the  subject  of  his  mirth, 
he  replied  that  he  was  then  thinking  of  the  admirable  way 
in  which  Colonel  Hayne's  quotation  about  Banquo's  ghost 
could  be  turned  against  himself.  On  the  morning  of  the 


OF   DANIEL    WEBSTER.  85 

next  day  the  House  of  Representatives  was  deserted. 
Nearly  all  the  members  hastened  to  the  Senate-chamber  as 
spectators  of  the  imposing  scene  which  was  anticipated. 
Every  portion  of  the  apartment  was  densely  packed  at 
an  early  hour.  The  elite  of  metropolitan  fashion,  the 
chief  heads  of  the  nation,  all  that  was  mosti  illustrious 
in  arts,  arms  and  beauty  in  the  Federal  capital,  had 
crowded  into  that  chamber,  and  served  by  their  personal 
appearance,  by  the  splendor  of  their  dresses  and  uniforms, 
and  by  their  immense  numbers,  to  increase  the  grandeur 
of  that  imposing  presence.  There  were  the  representa 
tives  of  many  different  States,  some  from  the  farthest 
limits  of  this  vast  continent, — from  Maine,  from  California, 
and  from  Texas ;  together  with  strangers  and  diplomatic 
agents  from  remote  quarters  of  the  globe,  assembled  to 
hear  the  greatest  effort  of  the  ablest  master  of  debate  in 
modern  times.  The  place  itself  was  illustrious  and  solemn ; 
for  it  was  the  central  spot  of  the  whole  earth  for  high 
and  grave  discussion  in  reference  to  human  freedom ; 
and  it  had  been  hallowed  by  the  labors  and  the  elo 
quence  of  the  fathers  and  heroes  of  the  Republic.  The 
occasion  was  momentous  and  thrilling ;  for  it  was  one  on 
which  the  Southern  portion  of  the  Confederacy  had  at 
tacked  the  Northern  by  her  favorite  champion  ;  and  when 
the  latter  was  to  stand  forth  to  defend  herself  in  the  per 
son  of  her  most  gifted  son.  A  vast  crowd,  who  could  not 
possibly  gain  admittance  to  the  closely-crowded  interior 
of  the  Senate-chamber,  filled  all  the  surrounding  halls, 
avenues,  and  passages  where  the  orator's  voice  could 
be  heard. 

At  length  Mr.  Webster  succeeded  in  reaching  his  seat ; 
and  the  order  of  business  having  been  announced,  he  rose 
to  speak.  His  appearance  at  that  time  was  very  remark 
able.  He  was  then  in  the  prime  and  fulness  of  his  ma- 


86  THE    LIFE  AND    TIMES 

jestic  manhood.  A  nobler  specimen  of  a  man,  both  intel 
lectually  and  physically,  never  existed  on  this  earth.  His 
person  was  tall  and  well  proportioned.  His  features  were 
large  and  expressive.  His  hair,  black  as  the  raven's  wing, 
lay  around  his  massive  and  dome-like  forehead  in  ample 
folds.  His  dark  and  deeply-set  eyes  seemed  to  be  kindled 
by  the  glowing  ardor  of  thought,  and  glittered  beneath 
his  heavy  brows  like  two  fiery  orbs  gleaming  at  night 
from  the  darkness  of  a  sepulchre.  He  wore  a  blue  coat, 
a  buff  vest,  and  a  white  cravat, — the  lingering  remains  of 
the  antique  taste  which  prevailed  in  the  Revolutionary  era. 
He  arose  calmly,  yet  with  evident  confidence,  and  com 
menced  his  oration  by  a  pleasing  allusion  to  a  mariner, 
tossed  upon  the  angry  and  turbulent  waves,  who  desires  to 
be  assured  of  his  reckoning ;  and  he  therefore,  being  simi 
larly  situated,  called  for  the  reading  of  the  resolution  which 
was  then  under  discussion.  The  resolution  being  read,  the 
orator  addressed  himself  to  the  task  before  him,  and  com 
menced  that  wondrous  burst  of  eloquence  —  argumentative, 
indignant,  combative,  and  patriotic — which  has  become 
memorable  in  the  history  of  American  legislation.  He 
examined  and  confuted  every  position  advanced  by  Mr. 
Hayne.  He  crushed  every  bone  in  his  forensic  body. 
He  wrested  every  weapon  from  his  hand,  and  then  broke 
them  over  his  opponent's  shoulders.  As  may  readily  be 
supposed,  the  whole  audience  were  amazed,  entranced, 
and  delighted  by  the  power  of  the  orator.  The  silence  of 
the  grave  pervaded  the  chamber  and  its  vicinity,  interrupted 
only  by  the  solemn  roll  and  the  sonorous  swell  of  his  voice, 
as  it  resounded  in  deep  yet  melodious  cadence,  like  waves 
upon  the  shore  of  the  sea,  throughout  the  Capitol.  The 
audience  gradually  exhibited  intense  emotion.  A  small 
group  of  Massachusetts  men,  who  were  gathered  in  one 
corner  of  a  gallery,  overawed  by  the  triumphant  majesty 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  8T 

of  the  scene,  burst  into  unbidden  tears  when  their  com 
monwealth's  orator  paid  his  just  tribute  of  praise  to  their 
native  State.  The  Southern  Senators  scowled  with  black 
and  yet  futile  defiance,  when  their  sectional  views  were 
receiving  such  a  castigation  as  they  never  before  or  since 
experienced.  While  he  lashed  Mr.  Hayne  personally  for 
his  dangerous  principles  and  his  factious  tendencies,  while 
he  spoke  derisively  of  Banquo's  ghost  and  of  other  offen 
sive  topics,  no  human  face  ever  wore  so  withering  and 
relentless  an  expression  of  scorn ;  when  he  referred  to 
the  glorious  Union  of  the  States,  bright  gleams  of  joy 
and  pride  illumined  his  features ;  and  a  halo  of  intellectual 
glory  seemed  to  surround  his  whole  person  while  he  dwelt 
upon  the  history,  the  services,  and  the  patriotism  of  old 
Massachusetts.  During  a  portion  of  the  time  employed 
in  the  delivery  of  the  speech,  Mr.  Hayne  was  prancing  to 
and  fro,  like  a  chafed  and  chastised  tiger,  in  the  rear  of 
his  seat;  in  vain  endeavoring  to  evade  the  destructive 
shafts  aimed  at  him  by  this  modern  Apollo, — in  this  case 
verily  the  "god  of  the  unerring  bow." 

At  length,  after  speaking  more  than  three  hours,  Mr. 
Webster  concluded  with  one  of  his  most  famous  and 
effective  perorations.  The  majestic  and  musical  tones  of 
the  orator  seemed  to  vibrate  in  the  ears  of  the  audience 
even  after  he  sat  down ;  and  they  appeared  to  be  in  a 
trance.  The  feeling  which  prevailed  was  too  intense  and 
profound  for  expression.  The  stillness  of  the  grave 
ensued  after  the  speech  was  ended ;  not  a  movement  was 
made,  or  a  sound  uttered,  by  the  vast  assembly.  No  more 
touching  tribute  could  have  been  rendered  in  such  a  place 
to  the  masterly  power  of  the  orator.  The  silence  at  length 
became  painful ;  and  the  hostile  president  of  the  Senate, 
Mr.  Calhoun,  broke  the  spell  by  calling  loudly  for  "  Order ! 
order!"  when  not  the  slightest  disorder  had  been  heard! 


88  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Death  of  Mrs.  Webster — Mr.  Webster's  Second  Marriage — The  Celebrated 
Case  of  John  Francis  Knapp — Circumstances  of  the  Case — Revelations 
of  Hatch — Of  Palmer — Crowninshield  arrested — The  Two  Knapps — • 
Confession  of  Joseph  Knapp — Trial  of  Francis  and  Joseph  Knapp — 
The  Result — Mr.  Choate's  Narrative — Mr.  Webster's  Ability  as  a 
Criminal  Lawyer — The  Variety  of  his  Talents. 

IN  the  year  1827  Mr.  Webster  endured  a  severe  domestic 
affliction  in  the  death  of  his  wife.  This  event  occurred  at 
New  York,  while  she  and  her  husband  were  on  their  way 
to  Washington.  It  was  the  heaviest  blow  which  he  ever 
received  ;  for  the  attachment  which  existed  between  them 
was  of  the  most  tender  nature.  From  his  youth  he  had 
loved  the  fair  and  amiable  Grace  Fletcher  with  all  the  in 
tensity  of  his  nature.  She  had  watched  his  rising  fame 
with  pride  and  joy.  She  had  been  one  of  the  most 
devoted  and  affectionate  of  women  ;  and  her  loss  was  to 
him  irreparable.  It  may  truly  be  said  that,  after  her 
death,  the  moral  and  social  tendencies  of  Mr.  Webster 
underwent  a  change  which  probably  never  would  have 
occurred  had  she  continued  to  live.* 

In  August,  1830,  Mr.  Webster  delivered  his  famous 
argument  in  the  trial  of  John  Francis  Knapp  for  the 
murder  of  Joseph  White,  of  Salem.  This  was  his  master 
piece  in  the  department  of  criminal  law ;  and  the  case  was 
one  of  intense  interest.  Joseph  White,  a  wealthy  mer- 

*  In  1830  Mr.  Webster  married  Miss  Caroline  Le  Roy,  daughter  ol 
Herman  Le  Roy,  of  the  city  of  New  York,  who  survived  him. 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  89 

chant  of  Salem,  was  found  murdered  in  his  bed  on  the  Tth 
of  April,  1830.  He  was  eighty-two  years  of  age.  His 
servant  was  the  first  to  discover  the  deed  and  to  proclaim 
it  to  the  astonished  citizens.  Thirteen  stabs  were  found 
upon  the  body,  made  by  a  sharp  dagger ;  and  a  heavy 
blow  had  been  given  upon  the  left  temple,  by  which  the 
skull  was  fractured.  No  valuables  had  been  stolen  from 
the  house,  though  gold  coin  and  silver  plate  were  in  the 
apartment  of  the  deceased.  The  murder  was  perpetrated 
at  night,  by  an  unknown  assassin,  in  one  of  the  most 
densely-crowded  portions  of  Salem. 

Never  had  a  more  profound  and  terrible  mystery  occurred 
in  the  annals  of  crime  than  was  presented  by  the  circum 
stances  of  this  case.  Not  the  slightest  indication  could  be 
detected,  for  several  weeks,  which  threw  any  light  upon  the 
horrid  enigma.  At  length  the  public  learned  that  a  person 
who  was  then  in  prison  at  New  Bedford,  seventy  miles  from 
Salem,  had  asserted  that  he  could  make  important  revela 
tions  in  reference  to  it.  His  name  was  Hatch ;  and  he 
eventually  deposed  that  the  real  murderer  of  Mr.  White 
was  a  former  associate  of  his  at  Salem,  named  Richard 
Crowninshield,  Jr.,  a  young  man  of  bad  reputation,  bold, 
adroit,  unprincipled,  and  capable  of  the  most  heinous 
crimes.  Another  witness  afterward  came  forward,  named 
Palmer,  a  resident  of  Belfast  in  Maine,  who  acknowledged 
that  he  had  been  acquainted  with  Crowninshield,  and  had 
learned  from  him  his  intention  to  assassinate  Mr.  White, 
as  well  as  the  connection  of  Crowninshield  with  Joseph  J. 
Knapp,  Jr.,  and  John  Francis  Knapp,  near  relatives  of 
the  deceased,  who  hoped,  by  first  destroying  the  will  of 
Mr.  White  and  then  his  life,  to  become  heirs  at  law  of  his 
immense  estate.  The  two  Knapps,  thus  implicated  by  two 
witnesses  in  this  awful  crime,  were  young  shipmasters  in 
Salem,  who  had  hitherto  borne  excellent  characters.  They 

8* 


90  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

were  immediately  arrested.  J.  J.  Knapp,  Jr.  made  a  full 
confession,  on  the  third  day  of  his  imprisonment,  to  the 
effect  that  he  had  projected  the  murder ;  that  he  had  com 
municated  his  project  to  his  brother,  John  Francis;  that 
Francis  had  agreed  to  employ  an  assassin;  that  Francis 
had  subsequently  engaged  Crowninshield  to  murder  Mr. 
White,  for  which  he  was  to  receive  a  thousand  dollars ;  that 
Joseph  Knapp  had  promised  to  unbar  a  window  at  night 
in  the  abode  of  their  victim,  and  thus  facilitate  the  opera 
tions  of  the  assassin ;  that  he  had  actually  abstracted  Mr. 
White's  will,  and  opened  the  shutters  of  a  window  in  their 
victim's  house,  as  agreed  upon  ;  and  that  Crowninshield 
had  finally  entered  the  mansion,  proceeded  to  Mr.  Whi*  j's 
chamber,  and  had  murdered  him  while  asleep  by  a  he«  /y 
blow  upon  the  head  and  thirteen  stabs  upon  the  body. 

Crowninshield  was  not  aware  of  the  revelations  which 
had  been  made  by  Joseph  Knapp,  and  maintained  a  stoical 
indifference  of  manner,  which  seemed  to  indicate  his  inno 
cence  ;  but  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  Knapp's  arrest  his 
behaviour  changed,  and  indicated  the  utmost  anxiety.  The 
subsequent  incidents  connected  with  this  memorable  case 
can  be  best  narrated  by  an  eye-witness  of  the  thrilling 
scenes  connected  with  it : 

"  Palmer  was  brought  to  Salem  in  irons  on  the  3d  of 
June,  and  committed  to  prison.  Crowninshield  saw  him 
taken  from  the  carriage.  He  was  put  in  the  cell  directly 
under  that  in  which  Crowninshield  was  kept.  Several 
members  of  the  committee  entered  Palmer's  cell  to  talk 
with  him :  while  they  were  talking,  they  heard  a  loud 
whistle,  and,  on  looking  up,  saw  that  Crowninshield  had 
picked  away  the  mortar  from  the  crevice  between  the 
blocks  of  the  granite  floor  of  his  cell.  After  the  loud 
whistle,  he  cried  out,  '  Palmer !  Palmer !'  and  soon  let 
down  a  string,  to  which  were  tied  a  pencil  and  a  slip  of 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  91 

paper.  Two  lines  of  poetry  were  written  on  the  paper, 
in  order  that,  if  Palmer  was  really  there,  he  would  make 
it  known  by  capping  the  verses.  Palmer  shrunk  away 
into  a  corner,  and  was  soon  transferred  to  another  cell. 
He  seemed  to  stand  in  awe  of  Crowninshield. 

"  On  the  12th  of  June,  a  quantity  of  stolen  goods  was 
found  concealed  in  the  barn  of  Crowninshield,  in  conse 
quence  of  information  from  Palmer. 

"  Crowninshield,  thus  finding  the  proofs  of  his  guilt  and 
depravity  thicken,  on  the  15th  of  June  committed  suicide 
by  hanging  himself  to  the  bars  of  his  cell  with  a  handker 
chief.  He  left  letters  to  his  father  and  brother,  express 
ing  in  general  terms  the  viciousness  of  his  life  and  the 
hopelessness  of  escape  from  punishment.  When  his  asso 
ciates  in  guilt  heard  his  fate,  they  said  it  was  not  unex 
pected  by  them,  for  they  had  often  heard  him  say  he  would 
never  live  to  submit  to  an  ignominious  punishment. 

"A  special  term  of  the  Supreme  Court  was  held  at 
Salem  on  the  20th  of  July,  for  the  trial  of  the  prisoners 
charged  with  the  murder  :  it  continued  in  session  till  th<? 

o 

20th  of  August,  with  a  few  days'  intermission.  An  indict 
ment  for  the  murder  was  found  against  John  Francis  Knapp, 
as  principal,  and  Joseph  J.  Knapp,  Jr.,  and  George  Crownin- 
shield,  as  accessories.  Selman  and  Chase  were  dischargee? 
by  the  attorney-general. 

"  The  principal,  John  Francis  Knapp,  was  first  put  on 
trial.  As  the  law  then  stood,  an  accessory  in  a  murder 
could  not  be  tried  until  a  principal  had  been  convicted. 
He  was  defended  by  Messrs.  Franklin  Dexter  and  William 
H.  Gardiner,  advocates  of  high  reputation  for  ability  and 
eloquence.  The  trial  was  long  and  arduous,  and  the  wit 
nesses  numerous.  His  brother  Joseph,  who  had  made  a 
full  confession,  on  the  Government's  promise  of  impunity 
if  he  would  in  good  faith  testify  the  truth,  was  brought 


92  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

into  court,  called  to  the  stand  as  a  witness,  but  declined  to 
testify.  To  convict  the  prisoner,  it  was  necessary  for  the 
Government  to  prove  that  he  was  present,  actually  or  con 
structively,  as  an  aider  or  abettor  in  the  murder.  The 
evidence  was  strong  that  there  was  a  conspiracy  to  commit 
the  murder,  that  the  prisoner  was  one  of  the  conspirators, 
that  at  the  time  of  the  murder  he  was  in  Brown  Street  at 
the  rear  of  Mr.  White's  garden,  and  the  jury  were  satisfied 
that  he  was  in  that  place  to  aid  and  abet ,  in  the  murder, 
ready  to  afford  assistance  if  necessary.  He  was  con 
victed. 

"Joseph  J.  Knapp,  Jr.,  was  afterward  tried  as  an  ac 
cessory  before  the  fact,  and  convicted. 

"  George  Crowninshield  proved  an  alibi,  and  was  dis 
charged. 

"  The  execution  of  John  Francis  Knapp  and  Joseph  J. 
Knapp,  Jr.,  closed  the  tragedy. 

"  If  Joseph,  after  turning  state's  evidence,  had  not 
changed  his  mind,  neither  he  nor  his  brother,  nor  any  of 
the  conspirators,  could  have  been  convicted ;  if  he  had 
testified,  and  disclosed  the  whole  truth,  it  would  have  ap 
peared  that  John  Francis  Knapp  was  in  Brown  Street,  not 
to  render  assistance  to  the  assassin ;  but  that  Crownin 
shield,  when  he  started  to  commit  the  murder,  requested 
Frank  to  go  home  and  go  to  bed ;  that  Frank  did  go  home, 
retired  to  bed,  soon  after  arose,  secretly  left  his  father's 
house,  and  hastened  to  Brown  Street,  to  await  the  coining 
out  of  the  assassin,  in  order  to  learn  whether  the  deed  was 
accomplished,  and  all  the  particulars.  If  Frank  had  not 
been  convicted  as  principal,  none  of  the  accessories  could 
by  law  have  been  convicted.  Joseph  would  not  have  been 
even  tried ;  for  the  Government  stipulated  that  if  he  would 
be  a  witness  for  the  State  he  should  go  clear. 

"  The  whole  history  of  this  occurrence  is  of  romantic 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  93 

interest.  The  murder  itself,  the  corpus  delicti,  was 
strange, — planned  with  deliberation  and  sagacity,  and  exe 
cuted  with  firmness  and  vigor.  While  conjecture  was 
baffled  in  ascertaining  either  the  motive  or  the  perpetrator, 
it  was  certain  that  the  assassin  had  acted  upon  design,  and 
not  at  random.  He  must  have  had  knowledge  of  the 
house ;  for  the  window  had  been  unfastened  from  within. 
He  had  entered  stealthily,  threaded  his  way  in  silence 
through  the  apartments,  corridors  and  staircases,  and 
coolly  given  the  mortal  blow.  To  make  assurance  doubly 
sure,  he  inflicted  many  fatal  stabs,  'the  least  a  death  to 
nature,'  and  stayed  not  his  hand  till  he  had  deliberately 
felt  the  pulse  of  his  victim,  to  make  certain  that  life  was 
extinct. 

"  It  was  strange  that  Crowninshield,  the  real  assassin, 
should  have  been  indicted  and  arrested  on  the  testimony 
of  Hatch,  who  was  himself  in  prison,  in  a  distant  part  of 
the  State,  at  the  time  of  the  murder,  and  had  no  actual 
knowledge  on  the  subject. 

"  It  was  very  strange  that  J.  J.  Knapp,  Jr.,  should  have 
been  the  instrument  of  bringing  to  light  the  mystery  of 
the  whole  murderous  conspiracy ;  for  when  he  received 
from  the  hand  of  his  father  the  threatening  letter  of 
Palmer,  consciousness  of  guilt  so  confounded  his  faculties, 
that,  instead  of  destroying  it,  he  stupidly  handed  it  back, 
and  requested  his  father  to  deliver  it  to  the  committee  of 
vigilance. 

"  It  was  strange  that  the  murder  should  have  been  com 
mitted  on  a  mistake  in  law.  Joseph,  some  time  previous 
to  the  murder,  had  made  inquiry  how  Mr.  White's  estate 
would  be  distributed  in  case  he  died  without  a  will,  and 
had  been  erroneously  told  that  Mrs.  Beckford,  his  mother- 
in-law,  the  sole  issue  and  representative  of  a  deceased 
sister  of  Mr.  White,  would  inherit  half  of  the  estate,  and 


94  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

that  the  four  children  and  representatives  of  a  deceased 
brother  of  Mr.  White,  of  whom  the  Hon.  Stephen  White 
was  one,  would  inherit  the  other  half.  Joseph  had 
privately  read  the  will,  and  knew  that  Mr.  White  had 
bequeathed  to  Mrs.  Beckford  much  less  than  half. 

"  It  was  strange  that  the  murder  should  have  been  com 
mitted  on  a  mistake  in  fact  also.  Joseph  furtively  ab 
stracted  a  will,  and  expected  Mr.  White  would  die  intes 
tate  ;  but  after  the  decease,  the  will,  the  last  will,  was 
found  by  his  heirs  in  its  proper  place  ;  and  it  could  never 
have  been  known  or  conjectured,  without  the  aid  of  Joseph's 
confession,  that  he  had  made  either  of  those  blunders. 

"  Finally,  it  was  a  strange  fact  that  Knapp  should,  on 
the  night  following  the  murder,  have  watched  w7ith  the 
mangled  corpse,  and  at  the  funeral  followed  the  hearse  as 
one  of  the  chief  mourners,  without  betraying  on  either 
occasion  the  slightest  emotion  which  could  awaken  a  sus 
picion  of  his  guilt." 

Mr.  Webster  was  employed  to  prosecute  the  defendant, 
Knapp,  by  the  relatives  of  the  deceased.  Among  the 
audience  was  the  Hon.  Rufus  Choate,  himself  second  only 
to  Mr.  Webster  among  the  great  advocates  of  New  Eng 
land,  and  after  his  death  the  facile  princeps  of  a  body  of 
able  men  who  justly  esteem  him  as  the  most  eminent  of 
their  number.  He  has  described  Mr.  Webster's  achieve 
ment  on  this  occasion  in  the  following  graphic  language, 
after  referring  to  other  instances  of  his  legal  ability : 

"  One  such  I  stood  in  a  relation  to  witness  with  a  com 
paratively  easy  curiosity,  and  yet  with  intimate  and  pro 
fessional  knowledge  of  all  the  embarrassments  of  the 
case.  It  was  the  trial  of  John  Francis  Knapp,  charged 
with  being  present,  aiding,  and  abetting  in  the  murder  of 
Joseph  White,  in  which  Mr.  Webster  conducted  the  pro 
secution  for  the  commonwealth ;  in  the  same  year  with  his 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  95 

reply  to  Mr.  Hayne  in  the  Senate,  and  a  few  months 
later,  and  when  I  bring  to  mind  the  incidents  of  that 
trial :  the  necessity  of  proving  that  the  prisoner  was  near 
Enough  to  the  chamber  in  which  the  murder  was  being 
committed  by  another  hand  to  aid  in  the  act,  and  was 
there  with  the  intention  to  do  so,  and  thus  in  point  of  law 
did  aid  in  it, — because  mere  accessorial  guilt  was  not 
enough  to  convict  him ;  the  difficulty  of  proving  this — 
because  the  nearest  point  to  which  the  evidence  could 
trace  him  was  still  so  distant  as  to  warrant  a  pretty 
formidable  doubt  whether  mere  curiosity  had  not  carried 
him  thither ;  and  whether  he  could  in  any  useful  or  even 
conceivable  manner  have  co-operated  with  the  actual 
murderer,  if  he  had  intended  to  do  so  ;  and  because  the 
only  mode  of  rendering  it  probable  that  he  was  there  with 
a  purpose  of  guilt  was  by  showing  that  he  was  one  of  the 
parties  to  a  conspiracy  of  murder,  whose  very  existence, 
actors  and  objects  had  to  be  made  out  by  the  collation 
of  the  widest  possible  range  of  circumstances — some  of 
them  pretty  loose — and  even  if  he  was  a  conspirator,  it 
did  not  quite  necessarily  follow  that  any  active  participa 
tion  was  assigned  to  him  for  his  part,  any  more  than  to 
his  brother,  who,  confessedly,  took  no  such  part — the 
great  number  of  witnesses  to  be  examined  and  cross-exa 
mined,  a  duty  devolving  wholly  on  him;  the  quick  and 
sound  judgment  demanded  and  supplied  to  determine 
what  to  use  and  what  to  reject  of  a  mass  of  rather  un 
manageable  materials  ;  the  points  in  the  law  of  evidence 
to  be  argued, — in  the  course  of  which  he  made  an  appeal 
to  the  bench  on  the  complete  impunity  which  the  rejection 
of  the  prisoner's  confession  would  give  to  the  murder  in 
a  style  of  dignity  and  energy,  I  should  rather  say  of 
grandeur,  which  I  never  heard  him  equal,  before  or  after ; 
the  high  ability  and  fidelity  with  which  every  part  of  th.« 


96  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

defence  was  conducted;  and  the  great  final  summing  up, 
to  which  he  brought,  and  in  which  he  needed,  the  utmost 
exertion  of  every  faculty  he  possessed,  to  persuade  the 
jury  that  the  obligation  of  that  duty,  the  sense  of  which, 
he  said,  '  pursued  us  ever :  it  is  omnipresent  like  the 
Deity  :  if  we  take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  dwell  in 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  duty  performed,  or  duty 
violated,  is  still  with  us  for  our  happiness  or  misery' — to 
persuade  them  that  this  obligation  demanded  that  on  his 
proofs  they  should  convict  the  prisoner ;  to  which  he 
brought  first  the  profound  belief  of  his  guilt,  without 
which  he  could  not  have  prosecuted  him ;  then  skill  con 
summate  in  inspiring  them  with  a  desire  or  a  willingness 
to  be  instrumental  in  detecting  that  guilt,  and  to  lean  on 
him  in  the  effort  to  detect  it ;  then  every  resource  of  pro 
fessional  ability  to  break  the  force  of  the  propositions  of 
the  defence,  and  to  establish  the  truth  of  his  own :  infer 
ring  a  conspiracy  to  which  the  prisoner  was  a  party,  from 
circumstances  acutely  ridiculed,  by  the  able  counsel  oppos 
ing  him,  as  '  stuff,'  but  woven  by  him  into  strong  and 
uniform  tissue ;  and  then  bridging  over  from  the  con 
spiracy  to  the  not  very  necessary  inference  that  the  par 
ticular  conspirator  on  trial  was  at  his  post,  in  execution  of 
it,  to  aid  and  abet — the  picture  of  the  murder  with  which 
he  had  begun — not  for  rhetorical  display,  but  to  inspire 
solemnity,  and  horror,  and  a  desire  to  detect  and  punish 
for  justice  and  for  security ;  the  sublime  exhortation  to 
duty  with  which  he  closed  —  resting  on  the  universality 
and  authoritativeness  and  eternity  of  its  obligation  — 
which  left  in  every  juror's  mind  the  impression  that  it 
was  the  duty  of  convicting  in  this  particular  case,  the 
sense  of  which  would  be  with  him  in  the  hour  of  death, 
and  in  the  judgment,  and  forever — with  these  recollections 
of  that  trial,  I  cannot  help  thinking  it  a  more  difficult  and 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  97 

higher  effort  of  mind  than  that  more  famous  oration  for 
the  Crown." 

From  Mr.  Webster's  forensic  ability,  as  exhibited  in 
this  remarkable  trial,  the  reader  may  form  some  adequate 
conception  of  the  variety  and  diversity  of  his  talents. 
It  mattered  not  whether  it  were  in  the  Senate-chamber, 
among  the  leading  statesmen  of  a  great  nation,  or  in  the 
popular  assembly,  where  a  stormy  multitude  were  to  be 
addressed  by  moving  and  declamatory  appeals,  or  in  the 
courts  of  civil  justice,  where  recondite  learning  and  dry, 
profound,  abstract  principles  were  to  be  discussed  before 
calm  and  deliberate  judges,  or  in  the  criminal  tribunal, 
where  a  thorough  knowledge  of  human  nature,  skilful 
management  and  consummate  oratory  were  required  in 
order  to  secure  success ; — in  all  these  varied  and  almost 
incompatible  arenas  of  intellectual  power,  Mr.  Webster 
appeared  uniformly  as  the  most  gifted  of  men,  the  most 
gigantic  in  his  mental  proportions,  and  the  most  triumph 
ant  in  his  exercise  and  display  of  them. 


98  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 


CHAPTER  YIIL 

Accession  of  General  Jackson  to  the  Presidency — Mr.  Van  Buren  Re« 
jected  as  Minister  to  England — Mr.  Webster  supports  the  Renewal  of 
the  Charter  of  the  U.S.  Bank — Removal  of  the  Deposits — Disastrous 
Consequences — Mr.  Webster's  Speeches  on  the  Subject — Nullification 
in  South  Carolina — Mr.  Webster's  Celebrated  Speech  thereon — The  Ac 
tion  of  the  President  and  of  Congress — Accession  of  Van  Buren  to  the 
Presidency — The  Sub-Treasury  Scheme — Mr.  Webster's  Opposition  to 
it — Abolition  of  Slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia. 

THE  election  of  Andrew  Jackson  to  the  Presidency  in 
1828  opened  a  more  turbulent  era  in  the  history  of  the 
politics  and  government  of  the  country.  Upon  the  pe 
culiar  qualities  of  the  inflexible  hero  of  New  Orleans  it  is 
not  necessary  for  us  here  to  dwell.  Even  Mr.  Calhoun, 
who  had  been  conciliated  by  the  important  office  of  Vice- 
President,  soon  found  the  yoke  of  the  Presidential  tyrant 
too  heavy,  and  became  restive  under  it.  At  the  com 
mencement  of  his  administration,  General  Jackson  en 
deavored  also  to  conciliate  Mr.  Webster,  being  well  aware 
of  the  vast  power  which  he  possessed  as  the  ablest  member 
of  the  Senate ;  and  he  treated  him  with  the  most  marked 
and  significant  courtesy.  But  Mr.  Webster  was  not  to 
be  bought  by  the  utmost  blandishments  of  those  who 
might  be  in  the  possession  of  power ;  and  accordingly, 
when  Mr.  Van  Buren,  the  special  favorite  of  the  Pre 
sident,  was  by  him  appointed  Minister  to  England,  Mr. 
Webster  opposed  his  confirmation  in  the  most  emphatic 
and  energetic  terms.  The  wrath  of  the  incensed  Pre 
sident  was  poured  out  upon  the  head  of  the  offending 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  99 

statesman  in  overwhelming  torrents,  but  it  availed  not. 
Mr.  Webster's  reasons  for  the  policy  which  he  pursued 
were  quite  satisfactory ;  the  chief  of  which  was,  that  Mr. 
Van  Buren,  when  Secretary  of  State,  had  instructed  Mr 
McClean,  his  predecessor,  to  make  a  distinction  between 
his  country  and  his  party;  to  give  the  latter  the  pre 
eminence  in  his  relations  with  foreign  powers ;  to  convince 
the  English  Government  that  their  own  interests  required 
that  they  should  aid  in  maintaining  the  ascendency  of  that 
party;  and  thus  to  make  ignoble  and  despicable  conces 
sions  to  Great  Britain.  These  reasons  for  opposing  the 
confirmation  of  Mr.  Van  Buren  Mr.  Webster  openly  and 
fearlessly  avowed  in  the  Senate.  Even  Mr.  Calhoun  co 
incided  with  him ;  and  the  supple  nominee  of  the  President 
was  successfully  resisted,  and  eventually  recalled. 

In  May,  1832,  Mr.  Webster  made  an  important  speech 
in  the  Senate  in  favor  of  the  bill  which  had  been  intro 
duced  by  Mr.  Dallas  for  the  renewal  of  the  charter  of  the 
United  States  Bank ;  and  he  stated  clearly  and  con 
clusively  the  reasons  why  he  supported  an  institution  in 
this  case  which  he  had  formerly  so  bitterly  opposed.  Ifc 
was  because  the  principles  upon  which  the  two  institutions 
were  to  be  founded  were  totally  different  and  antagonistic. 
The  bank  which  he  defended  Jackson  and  Calhoun  had 
themselves  formerly  opposed;  and  the  reason  for  their 
change  of  policy  was  the  same, — a  fundamental  difference 
in  the  nature  of  the  several  institutions.  The  charter  of 
the  bank  was  renewed  in  spite  of  the  veto  of  the  Pre 
sident  ;  and  its  operation  was  found  to  be  in  the  highest 
degree  beneficial.  But  the  foiled  Executive  had  in  reserve 

o 

an  expedient  by  which  he  still  determined  to  crush  "  the 
monster,"  and  thus  indirectly  attain  the  result  in  which 
he  had  been  ignominiously  defeated.  This  expedient  was 
the  removal  of  the  deposits  of  the  moneys  of  the  Govern- 


100  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

ment  from  the  vaults  of  the  general  bank  and  their  dis 
tribution  among  certain  favorite  State  banks.  The  charter 
of  the  bank  itself  provided  that  the  public  moneys  should 
be  deposited  therein,  subject  to  removal  by  the  Secretary 
of  the  Treasury,  on  grounds  which  were  to  be  submitted 
to  Congress.  In  1832,  Congress  had  adopted  a  resolution 
to  the  effect  that,  in  their  judgment,  the  deposits  were 
secure  while  in  the  custody  of  the  bank.  But  this  recom 
mendation  availed  nothing  with  the  President ;  and  he 
proceeded  to  execute  his  purpose.  The  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury  then  in  office,  Mr.  McClean,  declined  to  make 
the  order  necessary  for  the  legal  transfer.  He  was  at  once 
removed,  and  Mr.  Duane,  of  Philadelphia,  was  appointed 
to  fill  his  place  and  perform  his  functions.  That  enlight 
ened  statesman  readily  perceived  the  appalling  conse 
quences  which  would  ensue  from  the  execution  of  the 
measure,  and  declined  to  accede  to  the  demand  of  the 
President.  He  was  also  unceremoniously  dismissed,  and 
Mr.  Taney,  subsequently  the  Chief- Justice  of  the  United 
States,  became  his  substitute.  This  gentleman  had  no 
scruples  in  reference  to  the  measure.  The  deposits  of  the 
Government  funds  were  then  withdrawn  from  the  capacious 
maw  of  the  monster.  Immediately  those  terrible  results 
ensued  which  every  intelligent  and  impartial  observer  had 
anticipated.  So  vast  and  sudden  a  demand  being  made 
upon  the  bank,  it  was  compelled  to  collect  all  its  claims  and 
resources  from  the  smaller  banks  throughout  the  country 
with  equal  precipitancy;  the  latter  were  constrained  to 
be  equally  peremptory  and  stringent  with  their  nume 
rous  customers  and  debtors ;  and  thus  the  fatal  blow  was 
felt  throughout  every  rank  and  class  in  the  nation ;  for 
it  was  impossible  to  meet  so  many  requisitions  upon  so 
slight  a  notice.  Repudiation  ensued,  from  the  highest 
to  the  lowest,  and  universal  bankruptcy  threatened  the 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  101 

nation.  Great  as  were  the  social  and  comt&ercial  dis 
asters  which  then  threw  so  dark  a  pall  of  gloom  over  the 
whole  Confederacy,  it  may  be  a  matter  of  reasonable  and 
just  surprise  that  the  entire  fabric  of  the  Government  was 
not  shattered  in  ruins  to  the  earth. 

Mr.  Webster  delivered  several  very  able  speeches  in  the 
Senate  in  regard  to  the  removal  of  the  deposits,  and  in 
reprobation  of  that  rash  and  pernicious  act.  Favorable  op 
portunities  for  so  doing  constantly  occurred,  in  consequence 
of  the  great  number  of  petitions  and  memorials  condemning 
the  act,  which  poured  in  upon  Congress  from  all  parts  of 
the  country.  In  one  of  the  most  conclusive  and  unanswer 
able  of  these  speeches,  he  uses  the  following  language : 

"  The  Senate  regarded  this  interposition  as  an  encroach 
ment  by  the  Executive  on  other  branches  of  the  Govern 
ment, — as  an  interference  with  the  legislative  disposition 
of  the  public  treasure.  It  was  strongly  and  forcibly  urged, 
yesterday,  by  the  honorable  member  from  South  Carolina, 
that  the  true  and  only  mode  of  preserving  any  balance  of 
power,  in  mixed  governments,  is  to  keep  an  exact  balance. 
This  is  very  true ;  and  to  this  end  encroachment  must  be 
resisted  at  the  first  step.  The  question  is,  therefore, 
whether,  upon  the  true  principles  of  the-  Constitution,  this 
exercise  of  power  by  the  President  can  be  justified. 
Whether  the  consequences  be  prejudicial  or  not,  if  there 
be  an  illegal  exercise  of  power,  it  is  to  be  resisted  in  the 
proper  manner.  Even  if  no  harm  or  inconvenience  result 
from  transgressing  the  boundary,  the  intrusion  is  not  to  be 
suffered  to  pass  unnoticed.  Every  encroachment,  great  or 
small,  is  important  enough  to  awaken  the  attention  of 
those  who  are  intrusted  with  the  preservation  of  a  con 
stitutional  government.  We  are  not  to  wait  till  great 
public  mischiefs  come,  till  the  government  is  overthrown, 
or  liberty  itself  put  into  extreme  jeopardy.  We  should 


102  .     ,   THE   LIFE  AND   TIMES 

notr  be"  worthy  sons  of  our  fathers  were  we  so  to  regard 
great  questions  affecting  the  general  freedom.  Those 
fathers  accomplished  the  Revolution  on  a  strict  question 
of  principle.  The  Parliament  of  Great  Britain  asserted  a 
right  to  tax  the  colonies  in  all  cases  whatsoever ;  and  it 
was  precisely  on  this  question  that  they  made  the  Revolu 
tion  turn.  The  amount  of  taxation  was  trifling,  but  the 
claim  itself  was  inconsistent  with  liberty ;  and  that  was, 
in  their  eyes,  enough.  It  was  against  the  recital  of  an  act 
of  Parliament,  rather  than  against  any  suffering  under  its 
enactments,  that  they  took  up  arms.  They  went  to  war 
against  a  preamble.  They  fought  seven  years  against  a 
declaration.  They  poured  out  their  treasures  and  their 
blood  like  water,  in  a  contest  against  an  assertion  which 
those  less  sagacious  and  not  so  well  schooled  in  the  prin 
ciples  of  civil  liberty  would  have  regarded  as  barren 
phraseology,  or  mere  parade  of  words.  They  saw  in  the 
claim  of  the  British  Parliament  a  seminal  principle  of 
mischief,  the  germ  of  unjust  power :  they  detected  it, 
dragged  it  forth  from  underneath  its  plausible  disguises, 
struck  at  it ;  nor  did  it  elude  either  their  steady  eye  or 
their  well-directed  blow  till  they  had  extirpated  and  de 
stroyed  it,  to  the  smallest  fibre.  On  this  question  of 
principle,  while  actual  suffering  was  yet  afar  off,  they 
raised  their  flag  against  a  power  to  which,  for  purposes 
of  foreign  conquest  and  subjugation,  Rome,  in  the  height 
of  her  glory,  is  not  to  be  compared ;  a  power  which  has 
dotted  over  the  surface  of  the  whole  globe  with  her  pos 
sessions  and  military  posts,  whose  morning  drum-beat, 
following  the  sun,  and  keeping  company  with  the  hours, 
circles  the  earth  with  one  continuous  and  unbroken  strain 
of  the  martial  airs  of  England." 

Another  subject  of  general  interest  which  occupied  the 
attention  of  the  nation  and  of  her  leading  statesmen  during 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  l03 

the  second  term  of  President  Jackson  was  the  suppression 
of  the  Nullification  tendencies  of  South  Carolina.  No 
sooner  was  he  re-elected  in  the  fall  of  1832  than  the  people 
of  that  State,  foreseeing  the  probable  continuance  of  the 
protective  policy  of  the  Government,  became  greatly  ex 
cited  and  incensed  against  it.  Meetings  were  held  through 
out  the  State,  and  an  ordinance  was  adopted  in  a  General 
Convention,  declaring  the  existing  tariff  unconstitutional, 
and  proclaiming  the  intention  of  South  Carolina,  as  an 
independent  sovereign  state,  to  resist  any  attempt  which 
might  be  made  by  the  officers  of  the  Federal  Government 
within  her  limits  to  collect  the  taxes  accruing  from  its  pro 
visions.  The  Legislature  of  the  State  soon  afterward  met, 
ratified  the  ordinance,  declared  the  tariff  to  be  uncon 
stitutional,  null  and  void,  and  ordered  the  militia  and 
other  military  forces  of  the  commonwealth  to  hold  them 
selves  in  readiness  to  oppose  the  aggressions  of  the  General 
Government.  The  excitement  and  hostile  ardour  pervaded 
the  whole  State.  Mr.  Calhoun  resigned  the  Vice-Presidency 
and  took  his  seat  in  the  Senate.  He  had  not  yet  arrived  in 
Washington  ;  and  the  report  prevailed  that  General  Jackson 
had  resolved  to  arrest  him,  on  the  charge  of  treason,  while 
on  his  way  to  the  capital.  Mr.  Webster  opposed  and  con 
demned  the  conduct  of  the  President  as  premature  and 
precipitate,  as  calculated  to  do  more  harm  than  good, 
and  as  stretching  his  prerogatives  to  an  undue  length. 
The  contest  between  the  State  and  Federal  Governments 
became  more  bitter  and  perilous  from  day  to  day.  A  pro 
clamation  issued  by  the  President  against  the  "Nullifiers" 
was  answered  by  a  counter-proclamation  sent  forth  by  Mr. 
Hayne,  then  Governor  of  South  Carolina.  Officers  of  the 
American  army  and  navy  were  ordered  to  hold  themselves 
in  readiness  to  march  at  a  moment's  warning ;  and  General 
Scott  was  sent  to  Charleston  to  take  such  steps  as  seemed 


104  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

to  be  necessary  to  crush  the  spirit  of  rebellion  and 
treason. 

Meanwhile,  this  frightful  state  of  discord  and  threatened 
disunion  became  the  subject  of  discussion  in  Congress.  On 
the  21st  of  January,  Mr.  Wilkins,  of  Pennsylvania,  offered 
a  bill  which  proposed  to  make  further  and  more  efficient 
provision  for  the  collection  of  the  revenues,  and  authorized 
the  President  to  crush  all  resistance  to  the  execution  of 
the  revenue-laws  of  the  United  States  by  summoning  to 
his  aid  all  the  military  resources  of  the  Confederacy. 
During  the  discussion  of  this  bill,  Mr.  Calhoun  delivered 
one  of  his  ablest  and  most  profound  arguments  in  favor 
of  the  doctrine  of  Nullification,  and  in  defence  of  the 
policy  pursued  by  South  Carolina.  His  speech  was  heard 
in  the  Senate,  and  subsequently  read  throughout  the  na 
tion,  with  the  most  intense  interest ;  and  it  was  worthy  to 
elicit  the  masterly  effort  of  Mr.  Webster  by  which  it  was 
most  triumphantly  answered.  After  explaining  the  doc 
trine  of  Mr.  Calhoun  clearly  and  distinctly,  Mr.  Webster 
continued  as  follows : 

"  Beginning  with  the  original  error,  that  the  Constitu 
tion  of  the  United  States  is  nothing  but  a  compact  between 
sovereign  States ;  asserting,  in  the  next  step,  that  each 
State  has  a  right  to  be  its  own  sole  judge  of  the  extent 
of  its  own  obligations,  and,  consequently,  of  the  constitu 
tionality  of  laws  of  Congress ;  and  in  the  next,  that  it 
may  oppose  whatever  it  sees  fit  to  declare  unconstitutional, 
and  that  it  decides  for  itself  on  the  mode  and  measure  of 
redress,  the  argument  arrives  at  once  at  the  conclusion 
that  what  a  State  dissents  from,  it  may  nullify ;  what  it 
opposes,  it  may  oppose  by  force ;  what  it  decides  for  itself, 
it  may  execute  by  its  own  power ;  and  that,  in  short,  it  is 
itself  supreme  over  the  legislation  of  Congress,  and  supreme 
over  the  decisions  of  the  national  judicature, — supreme 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  105 

over  the  Constitution  of  the  country, — supreme  over  the 
supreme  law  of  the  land.  However  it  seeks  to  protect 
itself  against  these  plain  inferences  by  saying  that  an 
unconstitutional  law  is  no  law,  and  that  it  only  opposes 
such  laws  as  are  unconstitutional,  yet  this  does  not  in  the 
slightest  degree  vary  the  result,  since  it  insists  on  deciding 
this  question  for  itself,  and,  in  opposition  to  reason  and 
argument,  in  opposition  to  practice  and  experience,  in  op. 
position  to  the  judgment  of  others  having  an  equal  right 
to  judge,  it  says  only,  *  Such  is  my  opinion ;  and  my 
opinion  shall  be  my  law,  and  I  will  support  it  by  my  own 
strong  hand.  I  denounce  the  law.  I  declare  it  uncon 
stitutional  :  that  is  enough  :  it  shall  not  be  executed.  Men 
in  arms  are  ready  to  resist  its  execution.  An  attempt  to 
enforce  it  shall  cover  the  land  with  blood.  Elsewhere  it 
may  be  binding ;  but  here  it  is  trampled  under  foot.' 
This,  sir,  is  practical  nullification." 

Against  these  positions  Mr.  Webster  laid  down  a  system 
embodied  in  the  following  propositions : 

I.  That  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  is  not  a 
league,  confederacy  or    compact    between   the  people  of 
the  several   States  in  their    sovereign    capacities,  but  a 
Government  proper,  founded  on  the  adoption  of  the  people, 
and  creating  direct  relations  between  itself  and  individuals. 

II.  That  no  State  authority  has  power  to  dissolve  those 
relations ;  that  nothing  can  dissolve  them  but  revolution ; 
and  that,  consequently,  there   can  be  no  such  thing  as 
secession  without  revolution. 

III.  That  there  is  a  supreme  law,  consisting  of  the  Con 
stitution  of  the  United  States,  acts  of  Congress  passed  in 
pursuance   of    it,   and    treaties ;    and  that,   in   cases  not 
capable  of   assuming  the  character  of   a   suit  in   law  or 
equity,  Congress  must  judge  of,  and  finally  interpret,  this 
supreme  law,  so  often  as  it  has  occasion  to  pass  acts  of 


lOb  THE   LIFE  AND   TIMES 

legislation  ;  and  in  cases  capable  of  assuming,  and  actually 
assuming,  the  character  of  a  suit,  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States  is  the  final  interpreter. 

IV.  That  an  attempt  by  a  State  to  abrogate,  annul  or 
nullify  an  act  of  Congress,  or  to  arrest  its  operation  within 
her  limits,  on  the  ground  that,  in  her  opinion,  such  law  is 
unconstitutional,  is  a  direct  usurpation  on  the  just  powers 
of  the  General  Government  and  on  the  equal  rights  of 
other  States,  a  plain  violation  of  the  Constitution,  and  a 
proceeding  essentially  revolutionary  in  its  character  and 
tendency. 

The  bill  which  called  forth  this  majestic  intellectual  tilt 
between  Mr.  Webster  and  Mr.  Calhoun  finally  passed  by  an 
almost  unanimous  vote,  John  Tyler,  of  Virginia,  being  one 
of  the  few  Senators  who  gave  their  ballots  against  it.  Even 
those  Southern  representatives  who  had  spoken  in  opposi 
tion  to  the  bill,  and  in  favor  of  the  principle  of  Nullifica 
tion,  took  occasion  to  absent  themselves  when  the  vote  was 
taken.  Mr.  Webster's  conduct  during  this  crisis  gained 
him  the  general  applause  of  the  nation ;  and  the  President 
felt  himself  under  such  great  obligations  to  him  for  his  effi 
cient  aid  that  he  made  advances  to  him  of  a  most  friendly 
nature;  and  a  report  was  prevalent  at  the  time  that  a  seat 
in  the  Cabinet  was  offered  him  but  declined.  Thus  was  the 
furious  Gorgon  of  Nullification  laid  to  rest,  it  may  be 
hoped,  forever,  and  the  perilled  harmony  and  integrity  of 
the  Union  happily  preserved  and  secured ;  in  the  attain 
ment  of  which  glorious  result,  Mr.  Webster  beyond  all 
question  deserved  the  chief  praise  and  occupied  the  most 
prominent  place. 

In  November,  1836,  Martin  Van  Buren  was  elected 
President,  as  successor  to  General  Jackson.  The  first 
subject  which  demanded  the  attention  of  the  new  adminis 
tration  was  the  currency-question;  for  the  financial  einbar- 


OF    DANIEL    WEBSTER.  107 

rassments  of  the  country  were  still  a  matter  of  grave 
concern  to  all  classes  of  the  community.  Mr.  Van  Buren 
was  in  every  sense  the  partisan  and  the  patron  of  the 
policy  which  had  been  pursued  by  General  Jackson.  In 
March,  1837,  Mr.  Webster  delivered  an  address  to  the 
citizens  of  New  York,  in  Niblo's  Saloon,  which  set  forth  in 
the  clearest  terms  the  errors  and  evils  of  the  defunct  ad 
ministration,  and  inflicted  upon  its  reputation  a  deadly  and 
destructive  blow.  In  that  speech  he  discussed  the  ques 
tions  of  the  tariff,  internal  improvements,  the  United  States 
Bunk,  the  annexation  of  Texas,  and  other  leading  themes. 
Mr.  Van  Buren  went  into  office  on  the  4th  of  March,  1837  ; 
and  one  of  his  first  acts  was  to  summon  an  extra  session 
of  Congress,  to  provide  for  the  serious  perils  which  seemed 
to  overhang  the  community  in  consequence  of  the  simulta 
neous  suspension  of  many  banks  throughout  the  country. 
This  very  movement  was  in  itself  an  acknowledgment  that 
the  measures  of  the  preceding  administration  had  been  so 
disastrous  in  their  effects  as  to  demand  a  remedy.  The 
extra  session  met  in  September,  1837.  Meanwhile,  Mr. 
Van  Buren  had  devised  a  new  and  peculiar  plan,  by  which 
he  hoped  to  promote  the  financial  interests  of  the  country, 
well  known  under  the  epithet  of  the  Sub-Treasury  Scheme. 
The  intention  or  operation  of  this  expedient  was  to  accumu 
late  and  disburse  the  funds  of  the  General  Government, 
without  the  intervention  or  the  aid  of  any  bank  whatever. 
The  President  also  proposed  to  withhold  from  the  States 
the  fourth  instalment  of  the  surplus  revenue  which  was 
then  due  them.  Mr.  Webster  resolutely  condemned  and 
opposed  both  of  these  measures ;  and  on  the  28th  of 
September  he  delivered  a  speech  which  embodied  his 
opinions  on  the  subject,  in  which  the  following  passage 
occurs : 

The  Government  of  the  United  States  completed  the 


108  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

forty-eighth  year  of  its  existence  under  its  present  Con 
stitution  on  the  3d  day  of  March  last.  During  this  whole 
period,  it  has  felt  itself  bound  to  take  proper  care  of  the 
currency  of  the  country ;  and  no  administration  has  ad 
mitted  this  obligation  more  clearly  or  more  frequently  than 
the  last.  For  the  fulfilment  of  this  acknowledged  duty, 
as  well  as  to  accomplish  other  useful  purposes,  a  national 
bank  has  been  maintained  for  forty  out  of  these  forty-eight 
years.  Two  institutions  of  this  kind  have  been  created  by 
law ;  one  commencing  in  1791,  and,  being  limited  to  twenty 
years,  expiring  in  1811 ;  the  other  commencing  in  1816, 
with  a  like  term  of  duration,  and  ending,  therefore,  in 
1836.  Both  these  institutions,  each  in  its  time,  accom 
plished  their  purposes,  so  far  as  the  currency  was  con 
cerned,  to  the  general  satisfaction  of  the  country.  Before 
the  last  bank  expired,  it  had  the  misfortune  to  incur  the 
enmity  of  the  late  administration.  I  need  not  at  present 
speak  of  the  causes  of  this  hostility.  My  purpose  only 
requires  a  statement  of  that  fact,  as  an  important  one  in 
the  chain  of  occurrences.  The  late  President's  dissatisfac 
tion  with  the  bank  was  intimated  in  his  first  annual  mes 
sage,  that  is  to  say,  in  1829.  But  the  bank  stood  very 
well  with  the  country,  the  President's  known  and  growing 
hostility  notwithstanding,  and  in  1832,  four  years  before  its 
charter  was  to  expire,  both  Houses  of  Congress  passed  a 
bill  for  its  continuance,  there  being  in  its  favor  a  large 
majority  of  the  Senate,  and  a  larger  majority  of  the  House 
of  Representatives.  The  bill,  however,  was  negatived  by 
the  President.  In  1833,  by  an  order  of  the  President, 
the  public  moneys  were  removed  from  the  custody  of  the 
bank  and  were  deposited  with  certain  select  State  banks. 
This  removal  was  accompanied  with  the  most  confident 
declarations  and  assurances,  put  forth  in  every  form,  by 
the  President  and  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  that 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  109 

these  State  banks  would  not  only  prove  safe  depositories 
of  the  public  money,  but  that  they  would  also  furnish  the 
country  with  as  good  a  currency  as  it  ever  had  enjoyed, 
and  probably  a  better ;  and  would  also  accomplish  all  that 
could  be  wished  in  regard  to  domestic  exchanges.  The 
substitution  of  State  banks  for  a  national  institution,  for 
the  discharge  of  these  duties,  was  that  operation  which  has 
become  known,  and  is  likely  to  be  long  remembered,  as  the 
'  Experiment.' 

"  For  some  years  all  was  said  to  go  on  extremely  well, 
although  it  seemed  plain  enough  to  a  great  part  of  the 
community  that  the  system  was  radically  vicious ;  that  its 
operations  were  all  inconvenient,  clumsy,  and  wholly 
inadequate  to  the  proposed  ends ;  and  that,  sooner  or  later, 
there  must  be  an  explosion.  The  administration,  however, 
adhered  to  its  experiment.  The  more  it  was  complained 
of  by  the  people,  the  louder  it  was  praised  by  the  admi 
nistration.  Its  commendation  was  one  of  the  standing 
topics  of  all  official  communications ;  and  in  his  last  mes 
sage,  in  December,  1836,  the  late  President  was  more  than 
usually  emphatic  upon  the  great  success  of  his  attempts  to 
improve  the  currency,  and  the  happy  results  of  the  experi 
ment  upon  the  important  business  of  exchange. 

"  But  a  reverse  was  at  hand.  The  ripening  glories  of 
the  experiment  were  soon  to  meet  a  dreadful  blighting. 
In  the  early  part  of  May  last,  these  banks  all  stopped 
payment.  This  event,  of  course,  produced  great  distress 
in  the  country,  and  it  produced  also  singular  embarrass 
ment  to  the  administration.  The  present  administration 
was  then  only  two  months  old ;  but  it  had  already  become 
formally  pledged  to  maintain  the  policy  of  that  which  had 
gone  before  it.  The  President  had  avowed  his  purpose  of 
treading  in  the  footsteps  of  his  predecessor.  Here,  then, 

was  the  difficulty.     Here  was  a  political  knot,  to  be  either 

10 


110  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

untied  or  cut.  The  experiment  had  failed,  and  failed,  as 
it  was  thought,  so  utterly  and  hopelessly,  that  it  could  not 
be  tried  again. 

"  What,  then,  was  to  be  done  ?  Committed  against  a 
bank  of  the  United  States  in  the  strongest  manner,  and 
the  substitute,  from  which  so  much  was  expected,  having 
disappointed  all  hopes,  what  was  the  administration  to  do  ? 
Two  distinct  classes  of  duties  had  been  performed,  in  times 
past,  by  the  Bank  of  the  United  States ;  one  more  imme 
diately  to  the  Government,  the  other  to  the  community. 
The  first  was  the  safe-keeping  and  the  transfer,  when 
required,  of  the  public  moneys ;  the  other,  the  supplying 
of  a  sound  and  convenient  paper  currency,  of  equal  credit 
all  over  the  country,  and  everywhere  equivalent  to  specie, 
and  the  giving  of  most  important  facilities  to  the  opera 
tions  of  exchange.  These  objects  were  highly  important, 
and  their  perfect  accomplishment  by  the  4  experiment'  had 
been  promised  from  the  first.  The  State  banks,  it  was 
declared,  could  perform  all  these  duties,  and  should  perform 
them.  But  the  '  experiment'  came  to  a  dishonored  end  in 
the  early  part  of  last  May.  The  deposit-banks,  with  the 
others,  stopped  payment.  They  could  not  render  back  the 
deposits ;  and  so  far  from  being  able  to  furnish  a  general 
currency,  or  to  assist  exchanges,  (purposes,  indeed,  which 
they  never  had  fulfilled  with  any  success,)  their  paper 
became  immediately  depreciated,  even  in  its  local  circula 
tion.  What  course,  then,  was  the  administration  now  to 
adopt  ?  Why,  sir,  it  is  plain  that  it  had  but  one  alterna 
tive.  It  must  either  return  to  the  former  practice  of  the 
Government,  take  the  currency  into  its  own  hands,  and 
maintain  it,  as  well  as  provide  for  the  safe-keeping  of  the 
public  money  by  some  institution  of  its  own ;  or  else, 
adopting  some  new  mode  of  merely  keeping  the  public 
money,  it  must  abandon  all  further  care  over  currency  and 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  Ill 

exchange.  One  of  these  courses  became  inevitable.  The 
administration  had  no  other  choice.  The  State  banks 
could  be  no  longer  tried,  with  the  opinion  which  the  admi 
nistration  now  entertained  of  them ;  and  how  else  could 
any  thing  be  done  to  maintain  the  currency  ?  In  no  way 
but  by  the  establishment  of  a  national  institution. 

"  There  was  no  escape  from  this  dilemma.  One  course 
was,  to  go  back  to  that  which  the  party  had  so  much  con 
demned  ;  the  other,  to  give  up  the  whole  duty,  and  leave 
the  currency  to  its  fate.  Between  these  two,  the  adminis 
tration  found  itself  absolutely  obliged  to  decide;  and  it 
has  decided,  and  decided  boldly.  It  has  decided  to  sur 
render  the  duty,  and  abandon  the  Constitution.  That  deci 
sion  is  before  us,  in  the  message,  and  in  the  measures  now 
under  consideration.  The  choice  has  been  made ;  and 
that  choice,  in  my  opinion,  raises  a  question  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  the  people  of  this  country,  both  for  the  pre 
sent  and  all  future  time.  That  question  is,  Whether  Con 
gress  has,  or  ought  to  have,  any  duty  to  perform,  in  rela 
tion  to  the  currency  of  the  country,  beyond  the  mere 
regulation  of  the  gold  and  silver." 

During  the  regular  session  of  1837-38  Mr.  Webster 
again  came  in  conflict  with  the  potent  champion  of  South 
Carolina,  Mr.  Calhoun.  The  latter  introduced  a  series  of 
resolutions  in  the  Senate,  the  purport  of  which  was  to 
condemn  any  interference  by  Congress  with  the  institution 
of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia ;  and  to  assert  that 
the  intermeddling  of  any  State  or  its  citizens  with  slavery 
either  in  that  District  or  in  any  of  the  Territories,  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  immoral  or  sinful,  would  be  a  direct 
attack  on  the  rights  and  institutions  of  all  the  slaveholding 
States.  Mr.  Clay  offered  an  amendment  to  the  resolution 
of  Mr.  Calhoun  which  added  that  such  interference  would 
be  in  effect  a  violation  of  the  faith  implied  and  pledged  to 


112  THE   LIFE  AND   TIMES 

the  States  of  Virginia  and  Maryland  when  they  ceded 
the  territory  of  the  District  to  the  General  Government. 
Both  of  these  propositions  Mr.  Webster  opposed  in  the 
Senate,  and  held  that  Congress  possessed  the  constitutional 
right  to  abolish  slavery  in  the  District,  and  that  in  this 
respect  the  powers  of  Congress  wrere  unlimited  and  unre 
stricted.  In  the  preceding  March  he  had  presented  several 
petitions  praying  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the  Dis 
trict,  and  had  then  expressly  asserted  the  power  of  Con 
gress  over  slavery  in  the  District.  On  the  present  occasion, 
after  the  debate  had  progressed  during  some  days,  he 
delivered  one  of  his  most  powerful  arguments  in  support 
of  his  opinions,  and  in  reply  to  a  great  effort  made  by  Mr. 
Clay  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  question.  This  speech 
deserves  to  rank  among  his  acknowledged  masterpieces. 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  113 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Mr.  Webster's  Visit  to  England — Election  of  General  Harrison  to  the 
Presidency — His  Death — Accession  of  Mr.  Tyler — The  "Treaty  of 
Washington" — Its  Various  Provisions — Ability  displayed  by  Mr.  Web 
ster  as  a  Diplomatist — Approval  of  the  Treaty  by  Congress  and  the 
Executive — "Impressment" — Great  Oration  of  Mr.  Webster  in  Faneuil 
Hall — Extract  from  the  Speech — Hostility  of  C.  J.  Ingersoll  to  Mr. 
Webster — Mr.  Webster's  Retort  upon  him. 

IN  the  spring  of  1839  Mr.  Webster  gratified  his  very 
natural  desire  of  seeing  the  Old  World,  and  of  enjoying 
the  pleasures  and  vicissitudes  of  travel,  by  making  a  voyage 
to  Europe.  During  the  summer  of  that  year  he  visited  a 
large  portion  of  England,  Scotland  and  France.  As  may 
readily  be  supposed,  his  fame  as  the  first  and  greatest  of 
American  orators  and  statesmen  had  preceded  him,  and 
he  was  greeted  with  applause  and  a  hearty  welcome 
wherever  he  went.  Among  the  public  festivals  which  he 
attended  by  invitation  was  the  First  Triennial  Celebration 
of  the  Royal  Agricultural  Society  at  Oxford.  He  received 
many  invitations  to  proffered  hospitality  from  the  most 
distinguished  and  cultivated  personages  in  England.  No 
American  traveller  had  ever  been  honored  with  greater 
marks  of  consideration  in  that  country  than  was  he. 
During  his  tour  he  paid  special  attention  to  the  agriculture 
and  the  currency  of  England,  as  well  as  its  commerce  and 
manufactures.  Having  at  length  returned  home,  he  is 
said  to  have  declared,  with  patriotic  pride  and  pleasure, 
that  he  was  more  of  an  American  than  ever ;  and  that  he 
entertained  a  higher  estimate  than  before  of  his  country's 

real  greatness  and  glory. 

10* 


114  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

In  1840  General  Harrison  was  elected  to  the  Presi 
dency  ;  and  that  venerable  hero,  as  one  of  his  first  official 
acts,  tendered  to  Mr.  Webster  the  choice  of  a  place  in  his 
Cabinet.  The  President  desired  that  he  would  select  the 
Secretaryship  of  the  Treasury ;  but  Mr.  Webster,  for 
various  satisfactory  reasons,  chose  the  Secretaryship  of 
State  and  the  control  of  foreign  affairs.  He  was  led  to 
prefer  this  post  inasmuch  as  he  believed  that  he  could  be 
more  useful  to  the  country  therein,  in  settling  several  im 
portant  and  difficult  questions  which  at  that  time  were 
litigated  between  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain. 
He  accordingly  assumed  the  duties  of  the  office ;  and  the 
first  question  of  grave  difficulty  which  engaged  his  atten 
tion  was  the  adjusting  of  the  boundary-line  between  the 
northern  limit  of  the  Confederacy  and  Canada. 

In  the  summer  of  1841,  Mr.  Webster  received  the  per 
mission  of  Mr.  Tyler,  who  had  succeeded  General  Har 
rison  in  the  Presidency,  in  consequence  of  the  death  of  the 
latter,  to  address  a  note  to  Mr.  Fox,  in  which  he  informed 
him  that  the  United  States  Government  were  prepared  and 
willing  to  commence  negotiations  for  the  purpose  of  settling 
all  the  disputes  existing  between  it  and  the  English  Govern 
ment.  Soon  afterward  Sir  Eobert  Peel  became  British 
Premier,  and  Lord  Aberdeen,  the  Secretary  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  immediately  informed  Mr.  Everett,  American  mi 
nister  at  the  Court  of  St.  James,  that  the  Government  of 
England  had  resolved  to  despatch  Lord  Ashburton  as  a 
special  minister  to  the  United  States  to  confer  with  Mr. 
Webster  in  the  settlement  of  all  existing  or  apprehended 
difficulties  between  the  two  Governments.  Lord  Ashburton 
arrived  at  Washington  on  the  6th  of  April,  1842 ;  and 
Mr.  Webster  sent  a  communication  to  the  Governors  of 
Maine  and  Massachusetts,  informing  them  of  the  arrival 
of  the  British  plenipotentiary,  and  requesting  them  to  ap- 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  116 

point  commissioners  to  assist  in  settling  the  disputed  matter 
of  the  Northern  boundary.  The  Executives  of  those  two 
States  immediately  complied  with  the  suggestion  of  Mr. 
Webster,  and  the  commissioners  selected  by  them  arrived 
in  the  Federal  capital  in  June,  1842.  The  northeastern, 
northwestern,  and  much  of  the  intervening  portions  of  the 
line  which  separated  the  territorial  possessions  of  the  two 
countries  had  never  been  really  determined.  From  New 
Brunswick  to  the  distant  Pacific  coast,  disputed  territories 
of  vast  extent  were  claimed  by  both  nations,  upon  some  of 
which  American  citizens  had  located  and  rights  had  been 
already  vested,  on  the  supposition  that  the  soil  was  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  their  native  Government ;  and  in  other 
places  settlements  had  been  made  by  British  subjects  under 
a  similar  impression.  The  question  of  settlement  had  be 
come  intricate ;  and  the  adjustment  of  it  was  a  task  of 
great  delicacy  and  difficulty. 

After  four  months  of  incessant  labor,  a  treaty  was  agreed 
upon,  familiarly  known  in  American  history  as  the  "  Ash- 
burton  treaty,"  but  technically  and  properly  termed  the 
"Treaty  of  Washington,"  by  which  this  point  and  several 
others  were  judiciously  settled.  This  treaty  definitely 
fixed  the  boundary  between  the  United  States  and  the 
British  possessions  in  North  America  along  the  whole  line 
from  Nova  Scotia  to  the  St.  Lawrence  River,  thence  along 
that  river  and  through  the  great  chain  of  lakes  to  the 
head-waters  of  Lake  Superior,  and  thence  over  a  vast  area 
four  thousand  miles  in  extent,  over  mountains  and  primeval 
forests  and  pathless  plains,  to  the  foot  of  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains. 

Another  question  which  engaged  the  attention  of  the 
diplomatists  on  this  occasion  was  the  African  slave-trade, 
which  had  been  pronounced  piracy  by  both  Governments. 
England  had  adopted  the  policy  of  declaring  those  slaves 


116  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES 

free  which  might  be  thrown  upon  her  "West  India  settle 
ments  by  stress  of  weather  and  other  irresistible  causes ; 
authorizing  her  local  authorities  at  once  to  free  all  such 
slaves  from  the  control  of  their  masters  whenever  they 
were  thus  placed  involuntarily  within  the  jurisdiction  of 
British  law.  This  was  regarded  by  American  citizens  and 
slave-owners  as  an  unjust  interpretation  of  the  provisions 
of  the  celebrated  "  Quintuple  Treaty,"  adopted  in  De 
cember,  1841,  by  England,  France,  Austria,  Prussia  and 
Kussia;  one  of  the  provisions  of  which  referred  to  the 
right  of  search  of  vessels  suspected  of  being  engaged  in 
the  African  slave-trade.  The  eighth  article  of  the  treaty 
of  Washington  settled  this  matter  on  an  equitable  and 
permanent  basis.  It  provided  as  follows  : 

"The  parties  mutually  stipulate,"  says  the  article  men 
tioned,  "that  each  shall  prepare,  equip  and  maintain  in 
service,  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  a  sufficient  and  adequate 
squadron,  or  naval  force  of  vessels,  of  suitable  numbers 
and  descriptions,  to  carry  in  all  not  less  than  eight  guns, 
to  enforce,  separately  and  respectively -,  the  laws,  rights, 
and  obligations  of  each  of  the  two  countries  for  the  sup 
pression  of  the  slave-trade ;  the  said  squadrons  to  be  inde 
pendent  of  each  other,  but  the  two  Governments  stipu 
lating,  nevertheless,  to  give  such  orders  to  the  officers 
commanding  their  respective  forces  as  shall  enable  them 
most  effectually  to  act  in  concert  and  co-operation,  upon 
mutual  consultations,  as  exigencies  may  arise,  for  the 
attainment  of  the  true  object  of  this  article;  copies  of  all 
such  orders  to  be  communicated  by  each  Government  to 
the  other,  respectively." 

The  third  point  of  main  importance  in  this  celebrated 
treaty  referred  to  the  extradition  of  fugitives  from  justice. 
Ever  since  the  foundation  of  the  American  Confederacy 
its  territories  had  been  the  secure  refuge  of  innumerable 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  117 

and  grave  offenders  against  British  law ;  and  the  Canadas 
contained  a  vast  number  of  fugitives  from  justice  from  the 
United  States.  It  will  be  apparent  to  every  observer  how 
important  and  desirable  a  compact  between  the  two  Go 
vernments  would  be,  by  which  the  offenders  against  their 
respective  laws  would  be  apprehended  and  delivered  over 
to  the  arm  of  justice.  The  tenth  article  of  the  treaty 
settled  the  matter  satisfactorily  as  follows  : 

"It  is  agreed,"  says  that  document,  "that  the  United 
States  and  her  Britannic  Majesty  shall,  upon  mutual 
requisitions  by  them,  or  their  ministers,  officers  or  author 
ities,  respectively  made,  deliver  up  to  justice  all  persons 
who,  being  charged  with  the  crime  of  murder,  or  assault 
with  intent  to  commit  murder,  or  piracy,  or  arson,  or  rob 
bery,  or  forgery,  or  the  utterance  of  forged  papers,  com 
mitted  within  the  jurisdiction  of  either,  shall  seek  aix 
asylum,  or  shall  be  found,  within  the  territories  of  the 
other  :  provided  that  this  shall  only  be  done  upon  such 
evidence  of  criminality  as,  according  to  the  laws  of  the 
place  where  the  fugitive  or  person  so  charged  shall  be 
found,  would  justify  his  apprehension  and  commitment  for 
trial  if  the  crime  or  offence  had  there  been  committed ; 
and  the  respective  judges  and  other  magistrates  of  the  two 
Governments  shall  have  power,  jurisdiction  and  authority, 
upon  complaint  made  under  oath,  to  issue  a  warrant  for 
the  apprehension  of  the  fugitive  or  person  so  charged,  that 
he  may  be  brought  before  such  judges  or  other  magistrates, 
respectively,  to  the  end  that  the  evidence  of  criminality 
may  be  heard  and  considered ;  and  if,  on  such  hearing, 
the  evidence  be  deemed  sufficient  to  sustain  the  charge,  it 
shall  be  the  duty  of  the  examining  judge  w  magistrate  to 
certify  the  same  to  the  proper  executive  authority,  that  a 
warrant  may  issue  for  the  surrender  of  such  1'ugUwe  The 
expense  of  such  apprehension  and  delivery  shall  bf  borne 


118  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

by  the  party  who  makes  the  requisition  and  receives  the 
fugitive." 

This  treaty  was  communicated  to  the  Senate  on  the  llth 
of  August,  1842,  and  on  motion  of  Mr.  Rives,  of  Virginia, 
it  was  referred  to  the  Committee  of  Foreign  Affairs.  It 
was  reported  back  again  to  the  Senate  without  amendment; 
and  on  the  20th  of  August,  after  an  ample  discussion  of 
its  provisions,  it  was  ratified  by  the  Senate  by  a  vote  of 
thirty-nine  to  nine,  and  in  the  House  by  a  still  greater 
majority.  Among  the  Senators  who  voted  against  the 
treaty  were  Messrs.  Beriton  and  Buchanan.  The  American 
people  throughout  the  vast  extent  of  their  empire  approved 
the  treaty  by  an  almost  unanimous  voice ;  and  the  fame 
of  Mr.  Webster,  as  the  diplomatist  who  had  conducted  and 
completed  the  negotiations  so  successfully,  was  lauded  from 
one  ocean  to  the  other,  as  having  deserved  well  of  his 
fellow-citizens  by  his  consummate  skill  in  securing  the 
just  claims  of  his  country  in  opposition  to  the  encroach 
ments  of  an  ambitious  and  envious  foreign  power. 

Another  bone  of  controversy  still  existed  between  the 
two  countries  which  had  not  been  brought  within  the  range 
of  the  stipulations  of  the  treaty.  This  was  the  doctrine 
of  impressment,  which  had,  as  it  was  asserted  by  Great 
Britain,  been  the  real  cause  of  the  war  of  1812.  This 
point  had  not  been  included  in  the  treaty  of  Washington, 
because  Lord  Ashburton  had  received  no  instructions  on 
the  subject.  Mr.  Webster,  however,  addressed  a  letter  to 
the  British  representative,  in  which  he  discussed  the  whole 
matter  at  length.  In  this  able  and  unanswerable  com 
munication  the  following  passage  occurs  : 

"  We  have  had  several  conversations,"  he  says,  "on  the 
subject  of  impressment ;  but  I  do  not  understand  that  your 
lordship  has  instructions  from  your  Government  to  nego 
tiate  upon  it;  nor  does  the  Government  of  the  United 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  119 

States  see  any  utility  in  opening  such  negotiation,  unless 
the  British  Government  is  prepared  to  renounce  the  prac 
tice  in  all  future  wars. 

"No  cause  has  produced,  to  so  great  an  extent  and  for 
so  long  a  period,  disturbing  and  irritating  influences  in  the 
political  relations,  of  the  United  States  and  England,  as 
the  impressment  of  seamen  by  British  cruisers  from  Ame 
rican  merchant-vessels. 

"  From  the  commencement  of  the  French  Revolution  to 
the  breaking  out  of  the  war  between  the  two  countries  in 
1812,  hardly  a  year  elapsed  without  loud  complaint  and 
earnest  remonstrance.  A  deep  feeling  of  opposition  to 
the  right  claimed,  and  to  the  practice  exercised  under  it, — 
and  not  unfrequently  exercised  without  the  least  regard  to 
what  justice  and  humanity  would  have  dictated,  even  if 
the  right  itself  had  been  admitted, — took  possession  of  the 
public  mind  of  America  ;  and  this  feeling,  it  is  well  known, 
co-operated  most  powerfully  with  other  causes  to  produce 
the  state  of  hostilities  which  ensued. 

"At  different  periods,  both  before  and  since  the  war, 
negotiations  have  taken  place  between  the  two  Govern 
ments,  with  the  hope  of  finding  some  means  of  quieting 
these  complaints.  At  some  times  the  effectual  abolition 
of  the  practice  has  been  requested  and  treated  of;  at  other 
times,  its  temporary  suspension ;  and  at  other  times,  again, 
the  limitation  of  its  exercise,  and  some  security  against  its 
enormous  abuses. 

"  A  common  destiny  has  attended  these  efforts.  They 
have  all  failed.  The  question  stands  at  this  moment  where 
it  stood  fifty  years  ago.  The  nearest  approach  to  a  set 
tlement  was  a  convention  proposed  in  1803,  and  which  had 
come  to  the  point  of  signature,  when  it  was  broken  off  in 
consequence  of  the  British  Government  insisting  that  the 
narrow  seas  should  be  expressly  excepted  out  of  the  sphere 


120  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

over  which  the  contemplated  stipulation  against  impress 
ment  should  extend.  The  American  minister,  Mr.  King, 
regarded  this  exception  as  quite  inadmissible,  and  chose 
rather  to  abandon  the  negotiation  than  to  acquiesce  in  the 
doctrine  which  it  proposed  to  establish." 

The  claim  set  up  by  England  is  then  clearly  stated : — 
"  England  asserts  the  right  of  impressing  British  subjects, 
in  time  of  war,  out  of  neutral  merchant-vessels,  and  of 
deciding,  by  her  visiting-officers,  who  among  the  crews  of 
such  merchant-vessels  are  British  subjects.  She  asserts 
this  as  a  legal  exercise  of  the  prerogative  of  the  Crown, 
which  prerogative  is  alleged  to  be  founded  on  the  English 
law  of  the  perpetual  and  indissoluble  allegiance  of  the 
subject,  and  his  obligation,  under  all  circumstances,  and 
for  his  whole  life,  to  render  military  service  to  the  Crown 
whenever  required." 

Lord  Ashburton  received  the  communication  of  Mr. 
Webster  with  great  deference,  and  assured  him  that  it 
should  be  sent  to  the  Government  which  he  represented, 
and  that  it  should  receive  that  grave  consideration  which 
it  deserved. 

Mr.  Webster  at  this  period  incurred  the  indignation  of 
a  certain  portion  of  American  citizens  because,  when  the 
whole  of  Mr.  Tyler's  Cabinet  resigned  in  disgust  at  an 
early  period  of  his  administration,  he  alone  saw  fit  to  re 
tain  his  post  as  Secretary  of  State.  It  was  thought  that 
this  was  a  discreditable  proof  of  a  thirst  for  the  dignities 
and  emoluments  of  office,  which  was  not  very  honorable 
in  him.  A  portion  of  these  censors  resided  in  Massachu 
setts.  To  rebut  and  reprove  their  unjust  charges,  Mr. 
Webster  addressed  a  meeting  of  the  citizens  of  Boston  in 
Faneuil  Hall  on  the  30th  of  September,  1842,  and  tri 
umphantly  vindicated  himself  from  their  aspersions.  In 
the  course  of  this  able  effort  he  expressed  himself  in  the 


OP   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  121 

following  language,  and  began  by  saying:  "I  know  not 
how  it  is,  Mr.  Mayor,  but  there  is  something  in  the  echoes 
of  these  walls,  or  in  this  sea  of  upturned  faces  which  I 
behold  before  me,  or  in  the  genius  that  always  hovers 
over  this  place,  fanning  ardent  and  patriotic  feeling  by 
every  motion  of  its  wings, — I  know  not  how  it  is,  but 
there  is  something  that  excites  me  strangely,  deeply,  be 
fore  I  even  begin  to  speak."  Having  alluded  to  other 
minor  topics,  he  continued  : 

"  There  were  many  persons,  in  September,  1841,"  said 
the  orator,  "  who  found  great  fault  with  my  remaining 
in  the  President's  Cabinet.  You  know,  gentlemen,  that 
twenty  years  of  honest,  and  not  always  of  undistinguished 
service  in  the  Whig  cause,  did  not  save  me  from  an  out 
pouring  of  wrath  which  seldom  proceeds  from  Whig  pens 
and  Whig  tongues  against  anybody.  I  am,  gentleman,  a 
little  hard  to  coax,  but  as  to  being  driven,  that  is  out  of 
the  question.  I  chose  to  trust  my  own  judgment;  and, 
thinking  I  was  at  a  post  where  I  was  in  the  service  of  the 
country  and  could  do  it  good,  I  stayed  there.  And  I  leave 
it  to  you  to-day  to  say,  I  leave  it  to  my  country  to  say, 
whether  the  country  would  have  been  better  off  if  I  had 
left  also.  I  have  no  attachment  to  office.  I  have  tasted  of 
its  sweets,  but  I  have  tasted  of  its  bitterness.  I  am  con 
tent  with  what  I  have  achieved ;  I  am  more  ready  to  rest 
satisfied  with  what  is  gained  than  to  run  the  risk  of 
doubtful  efforts  for  new  acquisition. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  pause  here.  I  ought,  perhaps, 
to  allude  to  nothing  more ;  and  I  will  not  allude  to  any 
thing  further  than  it  may  be  supposed  to  concern  myself, 
directly  or  by  implication.  Gentlemen,  and  Mr.  Mayor, 
a  most  respectable  convention  of  Whig  delegates  met  in 
this  place  a  few  days  since,  and  passed  very  important 
resolutions.  There  is  no  set  of  gentlemen  in  the  common- 

11 


122  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

wealth,  so  far  as  I  know  them,  who  have  more  of  my  respect 
and  regard.  They  are  Whigs,  but  they  are  no  better  Whigs 
than  I  am.  They  have  served  the  country  in  the  Whig 
ranks ;  so  have  I,  quite  as  long  as  most  of  them,  though 
perhaps  with  less  ability  and  success.  Their  resolutions 
on  political  subjects,  as  representing  the  Whigs  of  the 
State,  are  entitled  to  respect,  so  far  as  they  were  author 
ized  to  express  opinion  on  those  subjects,  and  no  further. 
They  were  sent  hither,  as  I  supposed,  to  agree  upon 
candidates  for  the  offices  of  Governor  and  Lieutenant- 
Governor  for  the  support  of  the  Whigs  of  Massachusetts ; 
and  if  they  had  any  authority  to  speak  in  the  name  of 
the  Whigs  of  Massachusetts  to  any  other  purport  or  intent, 
I  have  not  been  informed  of  it.  I  feel  very  little  dis 
turbed  by  any  of  those  proceedings,  of  whatever  nature ; 
but  some  of  them  appear  to  me  to  have  been  inconsiderate 
and  hasty,  and  their  point  and  bearing  can  hardly  be  mis 
taken.  I  notice,  among  others,  a  declaration  made,  in 
behalf  of  all  the  Whigs  of  this  commonwealth,  of  '  a  full  and 
final  separation  from  the  President  of  the  United  States.' 
If  those  gentlemen  saw  fit  to  express  their  own  sentiments 
to  that  extent,  there  was  no  objection.  Whigs  speak 
their  sentiments  everywhere ;  but  whether  they  may  as 
sume  a  privilege  to  speak  for  others  on  a  point  on  which 
those  others  have  not  given  them  authority,  is  another 
question.  I  am  a  Whig,  I  always  have  been  a  Whig,  and 
I  always  will  be  one  ;  and  if  there  are  any  who  would  turn 
me  out  of  the  pale  of  that  communion,  let  them  see  who 
will  get  out  first.  I  am  a  Massachusetts  Whig,  a  Faneuil 
Hall  Whig,  having  breathed  this  air  for  five-and-twenty 
years,  and  meaning  to  breathe  it  as  long  as  my  life  is 
spared.  I  am  ready  to  submit  to  all  decisions  of  Whig 
conventions  on  subjects  on  which  they  are  authorized  to 
make  decisions ;  I  know  that  great  party  good  and  great 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  123 

public  good  can  only  be  so  obtained.  But  it  is  quite 
another  question  whether  a  set  of  gentlemen,  however 
respectable  they  may  be  as  individuals,  shall  have  the 
power  to  bind  me  on  matters  which  I  have  not  agreed  to 
submit  to  their  decision  at  all. 

" '  A  full  and  final  separation'  is  declared  between  the 
Whig  party  of  Massachusetts  and  the  President.  That  is 
the  text :  it  requires  a  commentary.  What  does  it  mean  ? 
The  President  of  the  United  States  has  three  years  of 
his  term  of  office  yet  unexpired.  Does  this  declaration 
mean,  then,  that  during  those  three  years  all  the  measures 
of  his  administration  are  to  be  opposed  by  the  great 
body  of  the  Whig  party  of  Massachusetts,  whether  they 
are  right  or  wrong  ?  There  are  great  public  interests 
which  require  his  attention.  If  the  President  of  the 
United  States  should  attempt,  by  negotiation,  or  by 
earnest  and  serious  application  to  Congress,  to  make  some 
change  in  the  present  arrangements,  such  as  should  be  of 
service  to  those  interests  of  navigation  which  are  con 
cerned  in  the  colonial  trade,  are  the  Whigs  of  Massachu 
setts  to  give  him  neither  aid  nor  succor  ?  If  the  President 
of  the  United  States  shall  direct  the  proper  department 
to  review  the  whole  commercial  policy  of  the  United 
States,  in  respect  of  reciprocity  in  the  indirect  trade,  to 
which  so  much  of  our  tonnage  is  now  sacrificed,  if  the 
amendment  of  this  policy  shall  be  undertaken  by  him,  is 
there  such  a  separation  between  him  and  the  Whigs  of  Massa 
chusetts  as  shall  lead  them  and  their  representatives  to 
oppose  it  ?  Do  you  know  (there  are  gentleman  now  here 
who  do  know)  that  a  large  proportion — I  rather  think  more 
than  one-half — of  the  carrying  trade  between  the  Empire 
of  Brazil  and  the  United  States  is  enjoyed  by  tonnage 
from  the  North  of  Europe,  in  consequence  of  this  ill-con- 
cidered  principle  with  regard  to  reciprocity  ?  You  might 


124  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 

just  as  well  admit  them  into  the  coasting-trade.  By  this 
arrangement  we  take  the  bread  out  of  our  children's 
mouths  and  give  it  to  strangers.  I  appeal  to  you,  sir, 
[turning  to  Captain  Benjamin  Rich,  who  sat  by  him,]  is 
not  this  true  ?  [Mr.  Rich  at  once  replied,  "  True  !"]  Is 
every  measure  of  this  sort,  for  the  relief  of  such  abuses, 
to  be  rejected  ?  Are  we  to  suffer  ourselves  to  remain  in 
active  under  every  grievance  of  this  kind  until  these  three 
years  shall  expire,  and  through  as  many  more  as  shall 
pass  until  Providence  shall  bless  us  with  more  power  of 
doing  good  than  we  have  now  ? 

"  Again  :  there  are  now  in  this  State  persons  employed 
under  Government,  allowed  to  be  pretty  good  Whigs,  still 
holding  their  offices, — collectors,  district-attorneys,  post 
masters,  marshals.  What  is  to  become  of  them  in  this 
separation  ?  Which  side  are  they  to  fall  ?  Are  they  to 
resign  ?  or  is  this  resolution  to  be  held  up  to  Government 
as  an  invitation  or  a  provocation  to  turn  them  out  ?  Our 
distinguished  fellow-citizen  who,  with  so  much  credit  to 
himself  and  to  his  country,  represents  our  Government  in 
England, — is  he  expected  to  come  home,  on  this  separa 
tion,  and  yield  his  place  to  his  predecessor,  or  to  some 
body  else  ?  And  in  regard  to  the  individual  who  addresses 
you, — what  do  his  brother  Whigs  mean  to  do  with  him  ? 
Where  do  they  mean  to  place  me?  Generally,  when  a 
divorce  takes  place,  the  parties  divide  their  children.  I  am 
anxious  to  know  where,  in  the  case  of  this  divorce,  I  shall 
fall.  This  declaration  announces  <  a  full  and  final  separa 
tion  between  the  Whigs  of  Massachusetts  and  the  Pre 
sident.'  If  I  choose  to  remain  in  the  President's  councils, 
do  these  gentlemen  mean  to  say  that  I  cease  to  be  a 
Massachusetts  Whig  ?  I  am  quite  ready  to  put  that  ques 
tion  to  the  people  of  Massachusetts." 

The  treaty  of  Washington,  by  which  the  points  of  dis- 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  125 

pute  which  existed  between  England  and  the  United  States 
had  been  judiciously  settled  by  Mr.  Webster,  continued  to 
furnish  his  opponents  with  a  fertile  subject  of  censure  and 
abuse ;  and  in  the  canvass  of  1844  it  was  made  an  elec 
tioneering  element.  It  was  not  until  1846,  when  Mr. 
Webster  returned  to  the  Senate,  that  a  favorable  oppor 
tunity  was  offered  to  vindicate  himself  and  his  treaty  be 
fore  the  whole  country.  During  the  session  of  1846 
this  treaty  was  again  made  the  theme  of  discussion  in 
Congress;  and  among  those  representatives  who  most 
bitterly  condemned  and  censured  it  was  Mr.  Charles  J. 
Ingersoll,  from  Pennsylvania.  This  gentleman  seemed  to 
feel  a  special  malignity  against  Mr.  Webster,  and  ren 
dered  himself  prominent  in  his  reprobation  of  that  states 
man's  proceedings  and  negotiations  with  the  British  pleni 
potentiary.  His  speech  delivered  on  the  occasion  clearly 
evinced  this  sentiment ;  and  proved  that  he  had  indus 
triously  collected  together  all  the  calumnies  and  slanders 
which  had  been  uttered  in  reference  to  the  subject,  and 
combined  them  together  in  one  insane  utterance  of  mingled 
bitterness,  falsehood,  and  imbecility.  During  the  progress 
of  the  debate  Mr.  Dickinson,  of  New  York,  made  a  fierce 
attack  on  Mr.  Webster,  in  a  powerful  and  elaborate 
speech,  in  which,  however,  he  reproduced  and  repeated 
some  of  the  inventions  of  Mr.  Ingersoll.  The  latter 
having  thus  received  the  apparent  impress  of  importance 
and  authority  by  being  adopted  and  uttered  by  Mr.  Dickin 
son,  Mr.  Webster  felt  called  upon  to  give  the  subject  a 
formal  and  thorough  discussion  in  the  Senate.  On  the  sixth 
and  seventh  days  of  April,  he  delivered  one  of  his  ablest 
efforts.  He  proved  most  unanswerably  that  the  north 
eastern  boundary  had  been  fairly  and  satisfactorily  settled; 
that  proper  satisfaction  and  apology  had  been  obtained  for 
an  aggression  on  the  territory  of  the  United  States ;  that 


126  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 

safe  and  suitable  stipulations  had  been  entered  into  to  se 
cure  the  fulfilment  of  the  duty  of  Government  in  regard 
to  the  slave-trade ;  that  crimes  disturbing  the  peace  of 
nations  had  been  suppressed  ;  that  the  Southern  coasting- 
trade  had  been  secured ;  that  impressment  had  been  abo 
lished  ;  and  that  the  honor  of  the  American  name  had  been 
amply  vindicated.  In  addition  to  all  this,  he  proceeded  to 
castigate  Mr.  Ingersoll  with  the  lash  of  a  Titan,  as  the 
chief  slanderer,  who  had  been  most  active  and  indefatigable 
in  raking  together  the  manifold  and  multiform  filth  in  refer 
ence  to  him  and  the  treaty,  which  he  had  afterward  uttered 
in  offensive  streams  in  Congress ;  and  he  applied  to  him  such 
a  discipline  of  ridicule,  sarcasm,  and  contempt  as  had  never 
before  been  witnessed  in  the  halls  of  the  Capitol.  He 
completely  extinguished  his  enemy ;  and  so  total  was  his 
political  annihilation  that,  from  that  hour  and  beneath  that 
gigantic  blow,  his  victim  vanished  entirely  from  public 
view  and  sank  into  oblivion. 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  121 


CHAPTER  X. 

Temporary  Retirement  of  Mr.  Webster  from  Political  Life — His  Legal 
Arguments — The  Girard  Will  Case — Suit  against  the  City  of  Boston — 
Mr.  Webster  returns  to  the  Senate — Annexation  of  Texas — Dispute 
respecting  Oregon  Territory — The  Mexican  War — Admission  of  Cali 
fornia — The  Compromise  Measures  of  Mr.  Clay — Mr.  Webster's  Ablo 
Speech  on  the  Subject. 

MR.  WEBSTER  spent  the  two  succeeding  years  in  absence 
from  the  national  councils,  and  in  the  pursuit  of  his  pro 
fessional  engagements  at  the  bar.  During  this  interval  he 
was  employed  in  the  conduct  of  several  important  law 
suits,  which  attracted  the  attention  of  the  whole  com 
munity  in  consequence  of  the  magnitude  of  the  interests 
involved  in  them.  Several  of  these  assumed  the  form  of 
arguments  before  the  United  States  Supreme  Court  at 
Washington.  Among  the  number  was  the  case  of  Vidal 
and  others  against  the  Executors  of  the  Will  of  Stephen 
Girard,  in  which  property  to  the  value  of  millions  was  con 
cerned.  In  this  memorable  case  he  was  opposed  by  Horace 
Binney  of  Philadelphia,  a  jurist  who,  possessing  none  of 
the  abilities  of  Mr.  Webster  as  a  statesman,  was  fully  his 
equal,  and  probably  his  superior,  in  legal  learning.  The 
position  assumed  by  Mr.  Webster  on  this  occasion  was, 
that  Girard  College,  the  chief  devisee  under  the  will,  was 
not  a  charity,  because  established  on  atheistical  principles; 
and  therefore  not  entitled  to  the  protection  of  the  laws. 
This  position,  doubtless  the  only  one  upon  which  an  argu 
ment  could  possibly  be  based  against  the  validity  of  the 


128  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES 

will,  was  supported  by  all  the  immense  resources  of  erudi 
tion  and  eloquence  which  his  great  mind  possessed ;  but  he 
was  manifestly  defending  the  wrong  side  of  the  question, 
and  so  the  Supreme  Court  ultimately  decided.  Another 
case  of  importance  in  which  he  was  concerned  was  that 
of  the  Providence  Railroad  against  the  City  of  Boston, 
which  was  purely  an  effort  of  technical  learning  and  re 
search,  from  the  nature  of  the  interests  and  the  facts 
involved.  In  June,  1844,  Mr.  Webster  delivered  his 
memorable  address  on  the  completion  of  the  Bunker  Hill 
Monument.  He  had  himself  baptized  the  foundation- 
stone  of  that  colossal  shaft  several  years  before,  with  a 
torrent  of  classical  eloquence ;  and  now  he  breathed  upon 
the  finished  crown  of  its  aspiring  head,  the  inspiration  of 
his  fervent  and  sublime  benediction. 

One  of  the  most  important  questions  which  engaged  the 
attention  of  Congress  at  this  period  was  the  proposed  an 
nexation  of  the  Republic  of  Texas.  Mr.  Webster  was 
opposed  to  this  measure ;  and  his  opposition  was  based 
upon  the  ground  that  too  great  an  extension  of  the  terri 
tory  of  the  Confederacy  would  be  injurious  to  the  interests 
and  the  perpetuity  of  the  Government,  and  that  the  true 
welfare  of  the  nation  would  be  more  effectually  promoted 
by  the  development  of  its  internal  resources  than  by  the 
enlargement  of  its  superficial  extent.  He  adduced  other 
objections : 

"In  the  next  place,  sir,"  said  the  Senator,  in  giving  a 
direct  statement  of  this  reason  for  his  opposition,  "  I  have 
to  say,  that  while  I  hold,  with  as  much  integrity,  I  trust, 
and  faithfulness,  as  any  citizen  of  this  country,  to  all  the 
original  arrangements  and  compromises  under  which  the 
Constitution  under  which  we  now  live  was  adopted,  I  never 
could,  and  never  can,  persuade  myself  to  be  in  favor  of 
the  admission  of  other  States  into  the  Union  as  slave 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  129 

States,  with  the  inequalities  which  were  allowed  and  ac 
corded  by  the  Constitution  to  the  slaveholding  States 
then  in  existence.  I  do  not  think  that  the  free  States 
ever  expected,  or  could  expect,  that  they  would  be  called 
on  to  admit  more  slave  States  having  the  unequal  advan 
tages  arising  to  them  from  the  mode  of  apportioning 
representation  under  the  existing  Constitution. 

"  Sir,  I  have  never  made  an  effort,  and  never  propose 
to  make  an  effort,  I  have  never  countenanced  an  effort, 
and  never  mean  to  countenance  an  effort,  to  disturb  the 
arrangements,  as  originally  made,  by  which  the  various 
States  came  into  the  Union.  But  I  cannot  avoid  con 
sidering  it  quite  a  different  question,  when  a  proposition 
is  made  to  admit  new  States,  and  that  they  be  allowed  to 
come  in  with  the  same  advantages  and  inequalities  which 
were  agreed  to  in  regard  to  the  old.  It  may  be  said  that, 
according  to  the  provisions  of  the  Constitution,  new  States 
are  to  be  admitted  upon  the  same  footing  as  the  old  States. 
It  may  be  so  ;  but  it  does  not  follow  at  all  from  that  pro 
vision  that  every  territory  or  portion  of  country  may  at 
pleasure  establish  slavery,  and  then  say,  we  will  become  a 
portion  of  the  Union,  and  will  bring  with  us  the  principles 
which  we  have  thus  adopted,  and  must  be  received  on  the 
same  footing  as  the  old  States.  It  will  always  be  a  ques 
tion  whether  the  other  States  have  not  a  right  (and  I 
think  they  have  the  clearest  right)  to  require  that  the 
State  coming  into  the  Union  should  come  in  upon  an 
equality ;  and  if  the  existence  of  slavery  be  an  impedi 
ment  to  coming  in  on  an  equality,  then  the  State  pro 
posing  to  come  in  should  be  required  to  remove  that  in 
equality  by  abolishing  slavery,  or  take  the  alternative  of 
being  excluded. 

"  Now,  I  suppose  that  I  should  be  very  safe  in  saying 
that  if  a  proposition  were  made  to  introduce,  from  the 


130  THE   LIFE  AND  TIMES 

North  or  the  Northwest,  territories  into  this  Union,  under 
circumstances  which  would  give  them  an  equivalent  to 
that  enjoyed  by  slave  States, — advantage  and  inequality, 
that  is  to  say,  over  the  South,  such  as  this  admission  gives 
to  the  South  over  the  North, — I  take  it  for  granted  that 
there  is  not  a  gentleman  in  this  body  from  a  slaveholding 
State  that  would  listen  for  one  moment  to  such  a  propo 
sition.  I  therefore  put  my  opposition,  as  well  as  on  other 
grounds,  on  the  political  ground  that  it  deranges  the 
balance  of  the  Constitution,  and  creates  inequality  and 
unjust  advantage  against  the  North,  and  in  favor  of  the 
slaveholding  country  of  the  South.  I  repeat,  that  if  a 
proposition  were  now  made  for  annexation  from  the  North, 
and  that  proposition  contained  such  a  preference,  such  a 
manifest  inequality,  as  that  now  before  us,  no  one  could 
hope  that  any  gentleman  from  the  Southern  States  would 
hearken  to  it  for  a  moment. 

"  It  is  not  a  subject  that  I  mean  to  discuss  at  length. 
I  am  quite  aware  that  there  are  in  this  chamber  gentlemen 
representing  free  States,  gentlemen  from  the  North  and 
East,  who  have  manifested  a  disposition  to  add  Texas  to 
the  Union  as  a  slave  State,  with  the  common  inequality 
belonging  to  slave  States.  This  is  a  matter  for  their  own 
discretion,  and  judgment,  and  responsibility.  They  are  in 
no  way  responsible  to  me  for  the  exercise  of  the  duties 
assigned  them  here ;  but  I  must  say  that  I  cannot  but 
think  that  the  time  will  come  when  they  will  very  much 
doubt  both  the  propriety  and  justice  of  the  present  pro 
ceeding.  I  cannot  but  think  the  time  will  come  when  all 
will  be  convinced  that  there  is  no  reason,  political  or 
moral,  for  increasing  the  number  of  the  States,  and  in 
creasing,  at  the  same  time,  the  obvious  inequality  which 
exists  in  the  representation  of  the  people  in  Congress  by 
extending  slavery  and  slave  representation. 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  131 

"  On  looking  at  the  proposition  further,  I  find  that  it 
imposes  restraints  upon  the  Legislature  of  the  State  as 
to  the  manner  in  which  it  shall  proceed  (in  case  of  a 
desire  to  proceed  at  all)  in  order  to  the  abolition  of  sla 
very.  I  have  perused  that  part  of  the  Constitution  of 
Texas,  and,  if  I  understand  it,  the  Legislature  is  re 
strained  from  abolishing  slavery  at  any  time,  except  on 
two  conditions ;  one,  the  consent  of  every  master,  and  the 
other,  the  payment  of  compensation.  Now,  I  think  that 
a  Constitution  thus  formed  ties  up  the  hands  of  the  legis 
lature  effectually  against  any  movement,  under  any  state 
of  circumstances,  with  a  view  to  abolish  slavery ;  because, 
if  any  thing  is  to  be  done,  it  must  be  done  within  the 
State  by  general  law,  and  such  a  thing  as  the  consent  of 
every  master  cannot  be  obtained ;  though  I  do  not  say 
that  there  may  not  be  an  inherent  power  in  the  people  of 
Texas  to  alter  the  Constitution,  if  they  should  be  inclined 
to  relieve  themselves  hereafter  from  the  restraint  under 
which  they  labor.  But  I  speak  of  the  Constitution  now 
presented  to  us. 

"  Mr.  President,  I  was  not  in  Congress  at  the  last 
session,  and,  of  course,  had  no  opportunity  to  take  part 
in  the  debates  upon  this  question  ;  nor  have  I  before  been 
called  upon  to  discharge  a  public  trust  in  regard  to  it. 
I  certainly  did,  as  a  private  citizen,  entertain  a  strong 
feeling  that,  if  Texas  were  to  be  brought  into  the  Union 
at  all,  she  ought  to  be  brought  in  by  diplomatic  arrange 
ment,  sanctioned  by  treaty.  But  it  has  been  decided 
otherwise  by  both  Houses  of  Congress ;  and,  whatever 
my  own  opinions  may  be,  I  know  that  many  who  coincided 
with  me  feel  themselves,  nevertheless,  bound  by  the  de 
cision  of  all  branches  of  the  Government.  My  own  opi 
nion  and  judgment  have  not  been  at  all  shaken  by  any 
thing  I  have  heard.  And  now,  not  having  been  a  member 


132  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES 

of  the  Government,  and  having,  of  course,  taken  no 
official  part  in  the  measure,  and  as  it  has  now  come  to  be 
completed,  I  have  believed  that  I  should  best  discharge 
my  own  duty,  and  fulfil  the  expectations  of  those  who 
placed  me  here,  by  giving  this  expression  of  their  most 
decided,  unequivocal,  and  unanimous  dissent  and  protest; 
and  stating,  as  I  have  now  stated,  the  reasons  which  have 
impelled  me  to  withhold  my  vote. 

"  I  agree  with  the  unanimous  opinion  of  the  Legisla 
ture  of  Massachusetts  ;  I  agree  with  the  great  mass  of 
her  people ;  I  reaffirm  what  I  have  said  and  written  during 
the  last  eight  years,  at  various  times,  against  this  annexa 
tion.  I  here  record  my  own  dissent  and  opposition ;  and 
I  here  express  and  place  on  record,  also,  the  dissent  and 
protest  of  the  State  of  Massachusetts." 

Texas  was  eventually  annexed,  and  the  result  was  pre 
cisely  what  Mr.  Webster  had  predicted  :  the  nation  became 
involved  in  a  war  with  Mexico.  While  this  war  was  in 
progress,  another  controversy  arose,  which  threatened  to 
involve  the  country  in  hostilities  with  England.  During 
the  campaign  in  which  Mr.  Polk  was  elected  to  the  Pre 
sidency,  his  party  and  himself  had  assumed  the  position 
that  the  United  States  were  entitled  to  the  whole  of  the 
Oregon  Territory ;  and  they  had  designated  54  degrees 
40  minutes  as  the  line  which  should  limit  the  possessions  of 
Britain.  In  his  first  message  Mr.  Polk  recommended  that 
iiotice  should  be  given  to  that  country  that  the  United 
States  would  terminate  the  convention  existing  between 
the  two  countries,  adopted  in  1827,  by  which  Oregon  Ter 
ritory  was  conjointly  occupied.  Mr.  Webster  opposed  the 
policy  of  the  President,  and  he  held  the  position  that  the 
forty-ninth  degree  of  latitude  was  the  extreme  limit  which 
the  United  States  could  justly  claim.  This  proposition 
was  at  first  treated  with  great  ridicule  by  the  administra- 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  135 

tion  and  its  partisans ;  but  Mr.  Webster's  sagacity  was 
clearly  vindicated  by  the  fact,  that  Mr.  Polk  was  himself 
compelled  at  last  to  accept  the  very  line  of  settlement 
which  Mr.  Webster  had  in  the  first  instance  designated 
and  defended.  In  his  speech  of  the  12th  of  August,  1848, 
on  this  subject,  he  insisted  on  the  right  of  Congress  to 
exclude  slavery  from  the  Territory ;  on  the  expediency  of 
exercising  that  right ;  and  against  the  farther  extension 
of  slave  territory.  In  regard  to  the  complaint  of  Southern 
Senators  that  their  slave  property  would  be  thus  excluded 
from  the  Territory,  he  laid  down  these  three  propositions : 

"First.  That  when  this  Constitution  was  adopted,  nobody 
looked  for  any  new  acquisition  of  territory  to  be  formed 
into  slaveholding  States. 

"  /Second.  That  the  principles  of  the  Constitution  pro 
hibited,  and  were  intended  to  prohibit,  and  should  be 
construed  to  prohibit,  all  interference  of  the  General 
Government  with  slavery,  as  it  existed,  and  as  it  still 
exists,  in  the  States.  And 

"Third.  Looking  to  the  operation  of  these  new  acquisi 
tions,  which  have  in  this  great  degree  had  the  effect  of 
strengthening  that  interest  in  the  South  by  the  addition 
of  five  States,  I  feel  that  there  is  nothing  unjust,  nothing 
of  which  any  honest  man  can  complain,  if  he  is  intelligent ; 
I  feel  that  there  is  nothing  with  which  the  civilized  world, 
if  they  take  notice  of  so  humble  a  person  as  myself,  will 
reproach  me  when  I  say,  as  I  said  the  other  day,  that  I 
have  made  up  my  mind,  for  one,  that  under  no  circum 
stances  will  I  consent  to  the  further  extension  of  the  area 
of  slavery  in  the  United  States,  or  to  the  further  increase 
of  slave  representation  in  the  House  of  Representatives." 

The  same  principles  of  political  prudence  and  sagacity 
which  had  induced  Mr.  Webster  to  oppose  the  annexation 
of  Texas  constrained  him  to  resist  the  admission  of  Cali- 

12 


.34  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES 

ibrnia  and  New  Mexico  into  the  Confederacy.  He  thought 
that  those  vast  and  often  savage  realms  would  cost  the 
Government  much  more  than  they  would  actually  be  worth ; 
and  he  believed  that  the  existence  of  such  States  located 
so  far  from  the  centre  of  the  Republic  would  prove  inju 
rious  to  its  unity,  its  compactness,  and  its  harmony.  In 
spite  of  his  opposition  and  that  of  his  friends,  these  Ter 
ritories  were  ultimately  incorporated  with  the  Union ;  but 
the  unfavorable  prognostications  which  Mr.  Webster  had 
entertained  on  the  subject  have  been  happily  disappointed. 
The  Mexican  War  was  at  length  concluded  with  honor 
to  the  American  arms ;  and  its  chief  hero,  Zachary  Taylor, 
was  rewarded  for  his  brilliant  services  by  his  election  to 
the  Presidency.  His  inauguration  took  place  on  the  4th 
of  March,  1849.  Very  soon  afterward  the  subject  of 
slavery  again  assumed  a  portentous  aspect  in  the  country ; 
and  when  California  demanded  to  be  admitted  into  the 
Union  as  a  free  State,  with  her  free  Constitution  already 
adopted  and  approved,  the  opposition  of  the  South  and  of 
Southern  representatives  to  the  measure  became  intense 
and  formidable.  Large  public  meetings  were  held  in  all 
the  non-slaveholding  States  in  support  of  the  admission 
of  California ;  and  thus  the  question  received  a  sectional 
character  and  generated  a  sectional  and  hostile  feeling. 
Soon  a  meeting  of  Southern  representatives  was  held  at 
Washington  to  deliberate  on  the  subject;  and  at  this  meet 
ing  Mr.  Calhoun,  still  the  great  leader  and  Achilles  of  the 
Southern  party,  was  appointed  to  prepare  an  address  to 
the  constituents  of  the  Southern  delegates.  This  address 
received  the  signatures  of  forty-eight  Southern  representa 
tives.  The  excitement  became  intense  throughout  the 
country.  To  allay  it,  and  to  settle  the  difficulty,  Mr.  Clay 
prepared  and  introduced  his  celebrated  Compromise  mea 
sure  on  the  25th  of  January,  1850.  After  a  protracted 


Of   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  135 

debate,  his  resolutions  were  negatived.  It  was  on  the  7th 
of  March,  after  the  discussion  had  continued  during  several 
months,  that  Mr.  Webster  delivered  his  memorable  speech 
on  this  question.  This  oration  was  one  of  his  most  mas 
terly  efforts ;  and  again  the  Senate-chamber  and  its 
vicinity  were  crowded  by  a  vast  assemblage,  eager  to  hear 
him.  He  favored  to  some  extent,  on  this  occasion,  the 
interests  and  prejudices  of  the  South ;  and  he  lost  in  some 
degree,  in  consequence  of  this  fact,  his  popularity  at  the 
North.  But  his  chief  purpose  evidently  was  to  administer 
soothing  counsel,  which  would  heal  the  existing  exacerbation 
of  feeling  between  rival  sections  of  the  Republic,  and 
thus  to  accomplish  the  best  and  noblest  aim  which  an 
American  statesman  can  ever  possibly  achieve. 


136  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 


CHAPTER  XL 

Death  of  General  Taylor — Mr.  Webster's  Eulogy  upon  Him — Mr.  Web 
ster's  Last  Speech  in  the  Senate — Mr.  Fillmore  appoints  him  Seeretai'y 
of  State — Mr.  Webster's  Celebrated  Letter  to  Chevalier  Hulsemann — 
Disputed  Authorship — Expedition  of  Lopez  against  Cuba — Its  Results 
— Other  Questions  of  Importance  disposed  of  by  Mr.  Webster — His 
Treatment  of  Kossuth. 

THE  sudden  death  of  General  Taylor  filled  the  nation 
with  regret.  The  popular  sentiment  found  suitable  utter 
ance  in  the  eulogies  which  were  pronounced  in  Congress ; 
but  among  the  many  eloquent  men  who  then  offered  the 
tribute  of  their  praise  to  the  memory  and  the  virtues  of 
the  deceased  hero,  none  equalled  in  felicity  of  thought  and 
expression  the  remarks  made  by  Mr.  Webster.  His  man 
ner  and  style  on  such  an  occasion  may  be  inferred  from 
the  following  extract  from  the  speech  addressed  to  the 
Senate  : 

"  For  a  very  short  time,  sir,  I  had  a  connection  with  the 
executive  government  of  this  country ;  and  at  that  time 
very  perilous  and  embarrassing  circumstances  existed 
between  the  United  States  and  the  Indians  on  the  borders, 
and  war  was  actually  carried  on  between  the  United  States 
and  the  Florida  tribes.  I  very  well  remember  that  those 
who  took  counsel  together  on  that  occasion  officially,  and 
who  were  desirous  of  placing  the  military  command  in  the 
safest  hands,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  no 
man  in  the  service  more  fully  uniting  the  qualities  of  mili 
tary  ability  and  great  personal  prudence  than  Zachary 
Taylor ;  and  he  was  appointed  to  the  command. 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  137 

"  Unfortunately,  his  career  at  the  head  of  this  Govern 
ment  was  short.  For  my  part,  in  all  that  I  have  seen  of 
him,  I  have  found  much  to  respect  and  nothing  to  con 
demn.  The  circumstances  under  which  he  conducted  the 
Government,  for  the  short  time  he  was  at  the  head  of  it, 
have  been  such  as  not  to  give  him  a  very  favorable  oppor 
tunity  of  developing  his  principles  and  his  policy,  and 
carrying  them  out ;  but  I  believe  he  has  left  on  the  minds 
of  the  country  a  strong  impression,  first,  of  his  absolute 
honesty  and  integrity  of  character ;  next,  of  his  sound, 
practical  good  sense;  and,  lastly,  of  the  mildness,  kind 
ness,  and  friendliness  of  his  temper  toward  all  his  country 
men. 

"  But  he  is  gone.  He  is  ours  no  more,  except  in  the 
force  of  his  example.  Sir,  I  heard  with  infinite  delight 
the  sentiments  expressed  by  my  honorable  friend  from 
Louisiana,  who  has  just  resumed  his  seat,  wThen  he  earnestly 
prayed  that  this  event  might  be  used  to  soften  the  animosi 
ties,  to  allay  party  criminations  and  recriminations,  and  to 
restore  fellowship  and  good  feeling  among  the  various  sec 
tions  of  the  Union.  Mr.  Secretary,  great  as  is  our  loss 
to-day,  if  these  inestimable  and  inappreciable  blessings 
shall  have  been  secured  to  us  even  by  the  death  of  Zachary 
Taylor,  they  have  not  been  purchased  at  too  high  a  price ; 
and  if  his  spirit,  from  the  regions  to  which  he  has  ascended, 
could  see  these  results  from  his  unexpected  and  untimely 
end,  if  he  could  see  that  he  had  entwined  a  soldier's  laurel 
around  a  martyr's  crown,  he  would  say  exultingly,  '  Happy 
am  I,  that  by  my  death  I  have  done  more  for  that  country 
which  I  loved  and  served,  than  I  did  or  could  do  by  all  the 
devotion  and  all  the  efforts  that  I  could  make  in  her  behalf 
during  the  short  span  of  my  earthly  existence  !'  ' 

The  obsequies  of  General  Taylor  interrupted  the  dis 
cussion  of  the  famous  Compromise  Measures.  After  their 

12* 


188  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

conclusion  the  debate  was  resumed.  On  the  17th  of  July, 
1850,  Mr.  Webster,  in  speaking  on  this  momentous  theme, 
addressed  the  Senate  for  the  last  time.  He  had  played 
the  most  important  part,  and  had  made  the  most  remark 
able  figure,  in  the  Federal  Congress,  of  any  American 
statesman ;  and  now  at  last  the  time  had  arrived  when 
that  unparalleled  career  had  reached  its  termination.  It 
is  fit  that  we  should  chronicle  the  last  words  which  he  ever 
uttered  on  the  scene  of  his  greatest  glory.  Said  he : 

"  And  now,  Mr.  President,  to  return  at  last  to  the  prin 
cipal  and  important  question  before  us,  What  are  we  to  do  ? 
How  are  we  to  bring  this  emergent  and  pressing  question 
to  an  issue  and  an  end  ?  Here  have  we  been  seven  and  a 
half  months  disputing  about  points  which,  in  my  judg 
ment,  are  of  no  practical  importance  to  one  or  the  other 
part  of  the  country.  Are  we  to  dwell  forever  upon  a 
single  topic,  a  single  idea  ?  Are  we  to  forget  all  the  pur 
poses  for  which  governments  are  instituted,  and  continue 
everlastingly  to  dispute  about  that  which  is  of  no  essential 
consequence  ?  I  think,  sir,  the  country  calls  upon  us 
loudly  and  imperatively  to  settle  this  question.  I  think 
that  the  whole  world  is  looking  to  see  whether  this  great 
popular  government  can  get  through  such  a  crisis.  We 
are  the  observed  of  all  observers.  It  is  not  to  be  disputed 
or  doubted  that  the  eyes  of  all  Christendom  are  upon  us. 
We  have  stood  through  many  trials.  Can  we  not  stand 
through  this,  which  takes  so  much  the  character  of  a  sec 
tional  controversy  ?  Can  we  stand  that  ?  There  is  no 
inquiring  man  in  all  Europe  who  does  not  ask  himself  that 
question  every  day,  when  he  reads  the  intelligence  of  the 
morning.  Can  this  country,  with  one  set  of  interests  at 
the  South,  and  another  set  of  interests  at  the  North,  and 
these  interests  supposed,  but  falsely  supposed,  to  be  at 
variance, — can  this  people  see  what  is  so  evident  to  the 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  139 

whole  world  beside,  that  this  Union  is  their  main  hope  and 
greatest  benefit,  and  that  their  interests  in  every  part  are 
entirely  compatible  ?  Can  they  see,  and  will  they  feel, 
that  their  prosperity,  their  respectability  among  the  na 
tions  of  the  earth,  and  their  happiness  at  home,  depend 
upon  the  maintenance  of  their  Union  and  their  Constitu 
tion  ?  That  is  the  question.  I  agree  that  local  divisions 
are  apt  to  warp  the  understandings  of  men  and  to  excite 
a  belligerent  feeling  between  section  and  section.  It  is 
natural,  in  times  of  irritation,  for  one  part  of  the  country 
to  say,  'If  you  do  that,  I  will  do  this,'  and  so  get  up  a  feel 
ing  of  hostility  and  defiance.  Then  conies  belligerent 
legislation,  and  then  an  appeal  to  arms.  The  question  is, 
whether  we  have  the  true  patriotism,  the  Americanism, 
necessary  to  carry  us  through  such  a  trial.  The  whole 
world  is  looking  toward  us  with  extreme  anxiety.  For 
myself,  I  propose,  sir,  to  abide  by  the  principles  and  the 
purposes  which  I  have  avowed.  I  shall  stand  by  the 
Union,  and  by  all  who  stand  by  it.  I  shall  do  justice  to 
the  whole  country,  according  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  in 
all  I  say,  and  act  for  the  good  of  the  whole  country  in  all 
I  do.  I  mean  to  stand  upon  the  Constitution.  I  need  no 
other  platform.  I  shall  know  but  one  country.  The  ends 
I  aim  at  shall  be  my  country's,  my  God's,  and  truth's.  I 
was  born  an  American  ;  I  will  live  an  American  ;  I  shall 
die  an  American ;  and  I  intend  to  perform  the  duties  in 
cumbent  upon  me  in  that  character  to  the  end  of  my 
career.  I  mean  to  do  this,  with  absolute  disregard  of  per 
sonal  consequences.  What  are  personal  consequences  ? 
What  is  the  individual  man,  with  all  the  good  or  evil  that 
may  betide  him,  in  comparison  with  the  good  or  evil  which 
may  befall  a  great  country  in  a  crisis  like  this,  and  in  the 
midst  of  great  transactions  which  concern  that  country's 
fate  ?  Let  the  consequences  be  what  they  will,  I  am  care- 


140  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

less.  No  man  can  suffer  too  much,  and  no  man  can  fall 
too  soon,  if  he  suffer  or  if  he  fall  in  defence  of  the  liber 
ties  and  Constitution  of  his  country." 

Scarcely  had  Mr.  Fillmore  succeeded  to  the  Presidency 
in  consequence  of  the  death  of  General  Taylor,  than  he 
found  himself  in  a  difficult  position.  He  was  compelled 
to  appoint  a  new  Cabinet,  and  the  administration  was  ex 
pected  to  enforce  the  Compromise  measures,  which  had 
been  at  length  adopted,  but  which  were  repugnant  to  the 
feelings  of  a  large  portion  of  the  Confederacy.  The  first 
act  of  the  President  was  to  offer  the  first  place  in  the 
Cabinet  to  Mr.  Webster,  whose  views  harmonized  with  his 
own  on  almost  every  point  of  policy.  The  offer  was  ac 
cepted,  and  Mr.  Webster  became  for  the  second  time 
Secretary  of  State.  At  this  period  he  began  gradually 
to  recover  the  popularity  with  the  North  which  he  had 
lost  in  consequence  of  the  delivery  of  his  speech  of  the 
7th  of  March,  1850.  He  had  endured  a  vast  amount  of 
opprobrium  on  account  of  the  opinions  which  he  had 
uttered  in  that  memorable  oration;  but  the  storm  had 
gradually  spent  itself,  and  he  was  regaining  the  confidence 
and  esteem  which  for  a  time  he  had  forfeited.  His  able 
conduct  as  chief  officer  of  the  Cabinet  soon  raised  him  to 
the  same  elevation  in  the  popular  adulation  which  he  had 
previously  occupied. 

One  of  the  measures  which  contributed  to  this  result 
was  his  official  letter  to  the  communication  of  Chevalier 
Hiilsemann,  the  Charge  d 'Affaires  of  the  Emperor  of 
Austria  to  this  Government.  The  chevalier  had  com 
plained  in  his  official  note,  of  the  mission  of  Mr.  Dudley 
Mann  to  the  then  revolting  kingdom  of  Hungary,  for 
the  purpose  of  expressing  the  sympathy  of  the  United 
States  with  the  heroes  who  were  then  making  prodigious 
efforts  to  overthrow  the  colossal  tyranny  of  Austria,  and 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  141 

establish  the  liberties  of  their  native  land.  The  emperor, 
by  his  agent,  demanded  from  the  United  States  Govern 
ment  an  apology  for  the  affront,  and  a  guarantee  that  it 
should  not  be  repeated  in  future. 

For  some  time  the  communication  of  the  obsequious 
tool  of  the  tyrant  was  treated  with  oblivious  contempt. 
At  length  a  reply  was  sent  to  it,  which  exhibited  as  much 
ability  and  intellectual  power  as  it  expressed  of  derision 
and  scorn  for  the  pretensions  and  principles  of  the  poten 
tate  by  whose  orders  the  original  note  had  been  sent. 
The  leading  doctrine  set  forth  in  this  memorable  paper 
was,  that  the  Austrian  monarch  had  no  right  whatever  to 
object  to  the  interest  taken  by  the  United  States  Govern 
ment  in  the  struggles  of  a  people  who  were  toiling  for  the 
attainment  of  their  liberties,  because  such  a  course  we  had 
ourselves  pursued ;  and  such  a  course  was  consonant  with 
the  fundamental  principles  of  the  American  Confederacy. 
The  composition  of  this  masterly  document  has  been 
generally  ascribed  by  the  popular  voice  to  the  pen  of 
Edward  Everett;  but  the  fact  probably  was,  that  Mr. 
Webster  suggested  the  principles  which  are  set  forth,  the 
general  ideas  which  are  contained  in  it,  requesting  Mr. 
Everett  to  put  these  into  appropriate  language,  and  give 
them  their  present  form  and  connection. 

On  the  14th  of  October,  1851,  Don  Calderon  de  la 
Barca,  the  Spanish  minister  at  Washington,  addressed 
a  note  to  Mr.  Webster  in  reference  to  the  outrages 
which  had  been  committed  at  New  Orleans  upon  Spanish 
residents  there  by  the  partisans  of  Lopez  and  his  asso 
ciates  in  his  disastrous  expedition  against  Cuba.  The 
demand  of  the  minister  for  reparation  was  an  equitable 
one ;  because  those  Spaniards  were  not  in  the  slightest 
degree  responsible  for  the  conduct  of  their  distant  Govern 
ment.  Mr.  Webster  accordingly  addressed  a  reply  to  De 


142  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 

la  Barca  on  the  13th  of  November,  condemning  the  ex 
pedition  of  Lopez  and  the  excesses  of  his  friends,  and 
promising  on  the  part  of  the  United  States  Government 
all  the  satisfaction  which  was  just  under  the  circumstances. 
This  appropriate  act  did  not  prevent  Mr.  Webster  from 
subsequently  sending  a  communication  to  Mr.  Barringer, 
the  United  States  minister  at  Madrid,  asking  his  inter 
position  in  procuring  the  release  of  the  American  prisoners 
who  were  yet  in  durance  at  Havana,  or  were  under  sen 
tence  of  death  amid  the  glooms  of  the  Spanish  mines.  The 
result  of  this  timely  and  generous  interference  was  the 
ultimate  pardon  and  release  of  a  hundred  and  sixty-two 
of  the  daring  and  reckless  adventurers,  who  had  been 
consigned  to  the  penalty  of  death, — a  penalty  which  they 
had  richly  deserved,  as  we  must  admit  when  we  remember 
the  fact  that  they  had  entered  on  a  most  detestable  ex 
pedition,  prepared  to  commit  every  possible  excess  in  order 
to  gratify  all  the  worst  passions  which  disgrace  and  deform 
human  nature,  and  who  only  wanted  the  ability  and  the 
means  to  carry  out  their  purposes. 

Other  subjects  of  great  moment  occupied  the  attention 
of  the  Secretary  of  State  during  the  last  year  of  his  public 
service.  Among  these  were  the  revival  of  the  terms  of  the 
Clayton-Bulwer  Treaty  in  reference  to  the  affairs  of  Central 
America,  the  question  of  the  fisheries,  the  Tehuantepec 
Treaty,  and  the  ownership  of  the  Lobos  Islands.  At 
this  period  the  interest  of  Mr.  Webster  was  strongly  elici 
ted  in  favor  of  the  merits  and  fate  of  Louis  Kossuth,  the 
ex-Governor  of  Hungary,  who  visited  the  United  States 
in  December,  1851.  He  had  addressed  a  letter  of  instruc 
tion  to  Mr.  George  P.  Marsh,  the  United  States  minister  at 
Constantinople,  directing  him  to  use  all  his  influence  to 
prevent  the  surrender  of  the  Hungarian  patriot  and  hero 
to  the  bloody  clutches  of  the  Austrian  despot,  and  to  per- 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  143 

mit  his  removal  to  the  United  States.  That  letter,  and 
the  potent  influences  which  it  set  in  operation,  were  de 
cisive  of  the  fate  of  Governor  Kossuth ;  and  all  the  arts, 
promises,  and  threats  of  the  Austrian  court  were  unavail 
ing.  Kossuth,  who  was  really  one  of  the  most  able  and 
eminent  statesmen  of  modern  times,  sailed  for  this  country 
and  visited  various  portions  of  the  Confederacy,  and  was 
everywhere  received  with  the  consideration  which  he  de 
served.  On  the  7th  of  January,  1852,  he  was  honored 
with  a  public  dinner  at  Washington,  tendered  by  a  large 
number  of  the  members  of  both  Houses  of  Congress.  Mr. 
Webster  was  present,  and  delivered  a  speech,  in  which  he 
expressed  his  admiration  for  Hungarian  patriotism  and 
valor,  as  exhibited  in  the  then  recent  struggle,  and  his  sym 
pathy  with  the  fate  of  the  Hungarian  exile.  He  referred 
in  eloquent  terms  to  the  interest  which  he  had  felt  and 
uttered,  many  years  previous,  in  1824,  with  the  similar 
struggles  of  a  similar  nation, — the  heroic  patriots  of 
Greece;  and  he  asserted  that  he  was  ready  to  maintain 
the  same  friendly  relations,  always  and  everywhere,  with 
any  people  who  might  endeavor  by  similarly  legitimate 
means  to  throw  off  the  detested  chains  of  tyranny,  and 
assert  their  claim  to  a  position  among  the  free  and  sove 
reign  nations  of  the  earth.  This  was  indeed  a  fitting  and 
appropriate  utterance  with  which  the  ablest  champion  of 
human  liberty  in  modern  times  might  conclude  his  long 
career ;  the  last  words  which  were  destined  ever  to  issue 
in  public  from  his  eloquent  lips. 


144  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Approach  of  Mr.  Webster's  Last  Illness — His  Religious  Opinions — A 
Summary  of  it — Mr.  Webster's  Will — New  and  Alarming  Symptoms 
— Mr.  Webster's  Scrutiny  of  his  Own  Dissolution — His  Death — His 
Intellectual  Character — Parallel  between  Him  and  Alexander  Hamilton 
— Mr.  Webster's  Skill  in  Agriculture — His  Library — His  Favorite 
Amusements — His  Fondness  for  the  Sea-Shore— The  Admirable  Pro 
portion  of  his  Mental  Faculties — His  Peculiarities  as  an  Orator — His 
Great  Logical  Power — His  Boldness  and  Fortitude — The  Permanence 
and  Splendor  of  his  Fame. 

WE  have  now  reached  the  closing  scene  in  the  life  of 
this  remarkable  man, — a  scene  as  singular  and  original  in 
its  peculiarities  as  were  the  events  of  the  preceding  epochs 
and  stages  of  his  existence.  If  it  be  appointed  unto  all 
men  once  to  die,  there  the  similarity  of  human  destiny 
ends ;  for  all  men  die  differently :  the  same  description  of 
the  last  solemn  scene  will  not  apply  to  any  two  persons  of 
the  race ;  and  in  this  respect  Mr.  Webster's  last  hours, 
and  the  conclusion  of  his  memorable  career,  were  unique  in 
their  incidents,  and  in  some  respects  without  a  parallel. 

It  was  in  April,  1852,  that  the  chronic  diarrhoea  to 
which  Mr.  Webster  had  been  subject  for  some  years  during 
the  summer  months  assumed  such  alarming  appearances, 
that  he  was  at  last  compelled  to  leave  his  office  at  Wash 
ington  and  return  to  Marshfield,  in  the  hope  of  recovery 
and  relief  by  breathing  the  air  and  reviewing  the  scenes 
of  that  favorite  spot.  His  hope  was  partially  realized. 
Although  he  met  with  a  serious  accident  by  being  thrown 
from  his  carriage  during  his  visit,  he  acquired  ultimately 
a  renewal  of  his  strength.  On  the  24th  of  May  he  ad- 


, 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  145 

dressed  an  immense  audience  of  the  citizens  of  Boston  in 
Faneuil  Hall.  Thence  he  returned  to  Washington,  where 
he  remained  until  the  public  reception  which  was  given 
him  in  July  by  his  political  friends  in  the  capital  of  Mas 
sachusetts.  Once  more  he  returned  to  the  duties  of  his 
office  at  Washington,  where  he  remained  until  the  beginning 
of  September.  During  the  journey  which  he  afterward 
made  through  Baltimore  toward  Marshfield,  he  took  a  severe 
cold,  which  aggravated  all  his  old  symptoms.  He  visited 
Boston  several  times,  and  at  length,  on  the  21st  of  Sep 
tember,  he  returned  to  Marshfield  for  the  last  time,  fully 
conscious  that  his  condition  was  very  critical. 

To  every  intelligent  and  thinking  man  the  close  of  life 
is  always  an  important  and  solemn  occasion ;  and  thus  Mr. 
Webster  viewed  it.  He  directed  his  attention,  as  he  lay 
upon  his  couch,  to  the  subject  of  religion,  and  requested 
that  certain  passages  of  Scripture  should  be  read  to  him. 
On  Sunday  evening,  October  10th,  he  dictated  to  his  at 
tendants  a  singular  testimony  and  exposition  of  his  religious 
belief.  It  was  as  follows  : 

"  LORD,  I  BELIEVE  :    HELP  THOU  MY  UNBELIEF. 

"Philosophical  argument,  especially  that  drawn  from 
the  vastness  of  the  universe  in  comparison  with  the  ap 
parent  insignificance  of  this  globe,  has  sometimes  shaken 
my  reason  for  the  faith  which  is  in  me ;  but  my  heart  has 
always  assured  and  reassured  me  that  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ  must  be  a  divine  reality.  The  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  cannot  be  a  merely  human  production.  This  belief 
enters  into  the  very  depths  of  my  conscience.  The  whole 
history  of  man  proves  it. 

"D.  WEBSTER." 

It  was  the  earnest  wish  of  this  great  man  to  leave  behind 
him  an  express  declaration  of  his  belief  in  the  truth  of  the 

13 


146  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

Christian  religion ;  and  he  desired  the  preceding  compre 
hensive  and  explicit  statement  to  be  engraved  as  an  epi 
taph  upon  his  tomb.  After  having  thus  paid  due  regard 
to  the  moral  obligations  which  devolved  upon  him,  by  this 
and  by  other  religious  exercises,  he  proceeded  to  dispose 
of  his  worldly  affairs,  and  to  arrange  them,  with  the  same 
prudence,  intelligence,  and  justice  which  had  ever  cha 
racterized  his  conduct  in  his  dealings  with  his  fellow-men 
during  his  lifetime.  As  the  will  of  so  remarkable  a  person 
as  Mr.  Webster  would  bear  the  stamp  of  his  peculiar  at 
tributes  of  mind  and  heart,  and  as  its  details  will  be  inte 
resting  to  all  intelligent  readers,  we  here  introduce  it.  It 
was  as  follows : 

UIN   THE   NAME    OF   ALMIGHTY   GOD! 

"  I,  Daniel  Webster,  of  Marshfield,  in  the  county  of 
Plymouth,  and  commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  Esquire, 
being  now  confined  to  my  house  with  a  serious  illness, 
which,  considering  my  time  of  life,  is  undoubtedly  critical, 
but  being  nevertheless  in  the  full  possession  of  my  mental 
faculties,  do  make  and  publish  this,  my  last  will  and  testa 
ment  : 

"I  commit  my  soul  into  the  hands  of  my  heavenly 
Father,  trusting  in  his  infinite  goodness  and  mercy. 

"  I  direct  that  my  mortal  remains  be  buried  in  the 
family-vault  at  Marshfield,  where  monuments  are  already 
erected  to  my  deceased  children  and  their  mother.  Two 
places  are  marked  for  other  monuments,  of  exactly  the 
same  size  and  form.  One  of  these,  in  proper  time,  is  for 
me ;  and  perhaps  I  may  leave  an  epitaph.  The  other  is 
for  Mrs.  Webster.  Her  ancestors,  and  all  her  kindred,  lie 
in  a  far-distant  city.  My  hope  is,  that  after  many  years 
she  may  come  to  my  side,  and  join  me  and  others  whom 
God  hath  given  me. 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  147 

"  I  wish  to  be  buried  without  the  least  show  or  ostenta 
tion,  but  in  a  manner  respectful  to  my  neighbors,  whose 
kindness  has  contributed  so  much  to  the  happiness  of  m£ 
and  mine,  and  for  whose  prosperity  I  offer  sincere  prayers 
to  God. 

"  Concerning  my  worldly  estate,  my  will  must  be  ano 
malous  and  out  of  the  common  form,  on  account  of  the 
state  of  my  affairs.  I  have  two  large  real  estates.  By 
marriage-settlement,  Mrs.  Webster  is  entitled  to  a  life- 
estate  in  each,  and  after  her  death  they  belong  to  my 
heirs.  On  the  Franklin  estate,  so  far  as  I  know,  there  is 
no  encumbrance  except  Mrs.  Webster's  life-estate.  On 
Marshfield,  Mr.  Samuel  Frothingham  has  an  unpaid  balance 
of  a  mortgage,  now  amounting  to  twenty-five  hundred 
dollars.  My  great  and  leading  wish  is  to  preserve  Marsh- 
field,  if  I  can,  in  the  blood  and  name  of  my  own  family. 
To  this  end,  it  must  go  in  the  first  place  to  my  son, 
Fletcher  Webster,  who  is  hereafter  to  be  the  immediate 
prop  of  my  house  and  the  general  representative  of  my 
name  and  character.  I  have  the  fullest  confidence  in  his 
affection  and  good  sense,  and  that  he  will  heartily  concur 
in  any  thing  that  appears  to  be  for  the  best. 

"  I  do  not  see,  under  present  circumstances  of  him  and 
his  family,  how  I  can  now  make  a  definite  provision  for  the 
future  beyond  his  life :  I  propose,  therefore,  to  put  the 
property  into  the  hands  of  trustees,  to  be  disposed  of  by 
them  as  exigencies  may  require. 

"  My  affectionate  wife,  who  has  been  to  me  a  source  of 
so  much  happiness,  must  be  tenderly  provided  for.  Care 
must  be  taken  that  she  has  some  reasonable  income.  I 
make  this  will  upon  the  faith  of  what  has  been  said  to  me 
by  friends,  of  means  which  will  be  found  to  carry  out  my 
reasonable  wishes.  It  is  best  that  Mrs.  Webster's  life- 
interest  in  the  two  estates  be  purchased  out.  It  must  be 


148  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES 

seen  -what  can  be  done  with  friends  at  Boston,  and  espe 
cially  with  the  contributors  to  my  life-annuity.  My  son-in- 
law,  Mr.  Appleton,  has  generously  requested  me  to  pay 
little  regard  to  his  interests,  or  to  those  of  his  children ; 
but  I  must  do  something,  and  enough  to  manifest  my  warm 
love  and  attachment  to  him  and  them.  The  property  best 
to  be  spared  for  the  purpose  of  buying  out  Mrs.  Webster's 
life-interest  under  the  marriage-settlement,  is  Franklin, 
which  is  very  valuable  property,  and  which  may  be  sold 
under  prudent  management,  or  mortgaged  for  a  conside 
rable  sum. 

"  I  have  also  a  quantity  of  valuable  land  in  Illinois,  at 
Peru,  which  ought  to  be  immediately  seen  after.  Mr. 
Edward  Curtis  and  Mr.  Blatchford  and  Mr.  Franklin 
Haven  know  all  about  my  large  debts ;  and  they  have  un 
dertaken  to  see  at  once  whether  those  can  be  provided  for, 
so  that  these  purposes  may  probably  be  carried  into  effect. 

"With  these  explanations,  I  now  make  the  following 
provisions,  namely : 

"  ITEM.  I  appoint  my  wife,  Caroline  Le  Roy  \Vebster, 
my  son,  Fletcher  Webster,  and  R.  M.  Blatchford,  Esquire, 
of  New  York,  to  be  the  executors  of  this  will.  I  wish  my 
said  executors,  and  also  the  trustees  hereinafter  named,  in 
all  things  relating  to  finance  and  pecuniary  matters,  to 
consult  with  my  valued  friend,  Franklin  Haven ;  and  in 
all  things  respecting  Marshfield,  with  Charles  Henry 
Thomas,  always  an  intimate  friend,  and  one  whom  I  love 
for  his  own  sake  and  that  of  his  family ;  and  in  all  things 
respecting  Franklin,  with  that  true  man,  John  Taylor ; 
and  I  wish  them  to  consult  in  all  matters  of  law  with  my 
brethren  and  highly-esteemed  friends,  Charles  P.  Curtis 
and  George  T.  Curtis. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  devise  to  James  W.  Paige  and 
Franklin  Haven,  of  Boston,  and  Edward  Curtis,  of  New 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  149 

York,  all  my  real  estate  in  the  towns  of  Marshfield,  in  the 
State  of  Massachusetts,  and  Franklin,  in  the  State  of  New 
Hampshire,  being  the  two  estates  above  mentioned,  to  have 
and  to  hold  the  same  to  tfeem  and  their  heirs  and  assigns 
forever,  upon  the  following  trusts,  namely : 

"First.  To  mortgage,  sell,  or  lease  so  much  thereof  as 
may  be  necessary  to  pay  to  my  wife,  Caroline  Le  Roy 
Webster,  the  estimated  value  of  her  life-interest,  heretofore 
secured  to  her  thereon  by  marriage-settlement,  as  is  above 
recited,  if  she  shall  elect  to  receive  that  valuation  in  place 
of  the  security  with  which  those  estates  now  stand  charged. 

"  Secondly.  To  pay  to  my  said  wife,  from  the  rents  and 
profits  and  income  of  the  said  two  estates,  the  further  sum 
of  five  hundred  dollars  per  annum  during  her  natural  life. 

"Thirdly.  To  hold,  manage,  and  carry  on  the  said  two 
estates,  or  so  much  thereof  as  may  not  be  sold  for  the  pur 
poses  aforesaid,  for  the  use  of  my  son,  Fletcher  Webster, 
during  his  natural  life,  and  after  his  decease  to  convey 
tlie  same  in  fee  to  such  of  his  male  descendants  as  a 
majority  of  the  said  trustees  may  elect,  they  acting  therein 
with  my  son's  concurrence,  if  circumstances  admit  of  his 
expressing  his  wishes,  otherwise  acting  upon  their  own  dis 
cretion  ;  it  being  my  desire  that  his  son  Ashburton  Web 
ster  take  one,  and  his  son  Daniel  Webster,  Jr.,  the  other 
of  the  said  estates. 

"  ITEM.  I  direct  that  my  wife,  Caroline  Le  Boy  Web 
ster,  have,  and  I  hereby  give  to  her,  the  right  during  her 
life  to  reside  in  my  mansion-house,  at  Marshfield,  when 
she  wishes  to  do  so,  with  my  son,  in  case  he  may  reside 
there,  or  in  his  absence ;  and  this  I  do,  not  doubting  my 
son's  affection  for  her  or  for  me,  but  because  it  is  due  to 
her  that  she  should  receive  this  right  from  her  husband. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  the  said  James  W- 
Paige,  Franklin  Haven,  and  Edward  Curtis,  all  the  books, 

LJ* 


150  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

plate,  pictures,  statuary,  and  furniture,  and  other  personal 
property  now  in  my  mansion-house  at  Marshfield,  except 
such  articles  as  are  hereinafter  otherwise  disposed  of,  in 
trust  to  preserve  the  same  in  the  mansion-house  for  the  use 
of  my  son,  Fletcher  Webster,  during  his  life,  and  after  his 
decease  to  make  over  and  deliver  the  same  to  the  person 
who  will  then  become  '  the  owner  of  the  estate  of  Marsh- 
field,'  it  being  my  desire  and  intention  that  they  remain 
attached  to  the  house  while  it  is  occupied  by  any  of  my 
name  and  blood. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  said  wife  all  my 
furniture  which  she  brought  with  her  on  her  marriage,  and 
the  silver  plate  purchased  of  Mr.  Rush,  for  her  own  use. 

"ITEM.  I  give,  devise,  and  bequeath  to  my  said  exe 
cutors  all  my  other  real  and  personal  estate,  except  such 
as  is  hereafter  described  and  otherwise  disposed  of,  to  be 
applied  to  the  execution  of  the  general  purposes  of  this 
will,  and  to  be  sold  and  disposed  of,  or  held  and  used  at 
Marshfield,  as  they  and  the  said  trustees  may  find  to  be 
expedient. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  son,  Fletcher  Web 
ster,  all  my  law-books,  wherever  situated,  for  his  own  use. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  son-in-law,  Samuel 
A.  Appleton,  my  California  watch  and  chain,  for  his  own 
use. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  grand-daughter, 
Caroline  Le  Roy  Appleton,  the  portrait  of  myself,  by 
Healy,  which  now  hangs  in  the  southeast  parlor,  at  Marsh- 
field,  for  her  own  use. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  grandson,  Samuel 
A.  Appleton,  my  gold  snuff-box,  with  the  head  of  General 
Washington,  all  my  fishing-tackle,  and  my  Selden  and 
Wilmot  guns,  for  his  own  use. 

"  ITEM.    I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  grandson,  Daniel 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  151 

Webster  Appleton,  my  Washington  medals,  for  his  own 
use. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  grand-daughter, 
Julia  Webster  Appleton,  the  clock  presented  to  her  grand 
mother  by  the  late  Hon.  George  Blake. 

"!TEM.  I  appoint  Edward  Everett,  George  Ticknor, 
Cornelius  Conway  Felton,  and  George  Ticknor  Curtis,  to 
be  my  literary  executors ;  and  I  direct  my  son,  Fletcher 
Webster,  to  seal  up  all  my  letters,  manuscripts,  and  papers, 
and  at  a  proper  time  to  select  those  relating  to  my  personal 
history  and  my  professional  and  public  life,  which  in  his 
judgment  should  be  placed  at  their  disposal,  and  to  trans 
fer  the  same  to  them,  to  be  used  by  them  in  such  manner 
as  they  may  think  fit.  They  may  receive  valuable  aid 
from  my  friend,  George  J.  Abbott,  Esq.,  now  of  the  State 
Department. 

"  My  servant,  William  Johnson,  is  a  free  man.  I  bought 
his  freedom  not  long  ago  for  six  hundred  dollars.  No  de 
mand  is  to  be  made  upon  him  for  any  portion  of  this  sum ; 
but,  so  long  as  is  agreeable,  I  hope  he  will  remain  with  the 
family. 

"!TEM.  Morricha  McCarty,  Sarah  Smith,  and  Ann 
Bean,  colored  persons,  now  also  and  for  a  long  time  in  my 
service,  are  all  free.  They  are  very  well  deserving,  and 
whoever  comes  after  me  must  be  kind  to  them. 

"  ITEM.  I  request  that  my  said  executors  and  trustees 
be  not  required  to  give  bonds  for  the  performance  of  their 
respective  duties  under  this  will. 

"  In  testimony  whereof,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand 
and  seal,  at  Marshfield,  and  have  published  and  declared 
this  to  be  my  last  will  and  testament,  on  the  21st  day  of 
October,  A.D.  1852." 

The  day  after  this  will  was  written,  but  not  signed  or 
executed,  a  very  alarming  symptom  of  Mr.  Webster's  dis- 


152  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

ease  occurred.  He  suddenly  vomited  a  large  quantity  of 
blood.  "  That,"  said  he  to  his  attending  physician,  "  is 
the  enemy  :  if  you  can  conquer  that" — here  his  utter 
ance  was  interrupted  by  a  repetition  of  the  attack.  As 
soon  as  the  spasm  had  passed  over,  he  summoned  his 
family  around  him,  arid  executed  his  will,  after  having 
ascertained  that  all  its  provisions  were  agreeable  to  those 
who  were  interested  in  it.  Having  finished  this  important 
matter,  he  remarked,  "  I  thank  God  for  strength  to  per 
form  a  sensible  act,"  and  then  engaged  in  prayer.  After 
some  minutes  were  spent  in  this  exercise,  he  concluded  by 
exclaiming,  "  And  now  unto  God,  the  Father,  the  Son, 
and  the  Holy  Ghost,  be  praise  for  evermore.  Peace  on 
earth,  and  good  will  toward  men.  That  is  the  happiness, — 
the  essence, — good  will  toward  men."  Observing  the 
anxious  face  of  Dr.  Jeffries,  his  attending  physician,  he 
afterward  said,  "  Doctor,  you  think  I  shall  not  be  here  in 
the  morning;  but  I  shall:  I  shall  greet  the  morning  light." 
His  prophecy  was  true.  He  did  see  the  morning  light 
once  more ;  and  during  the  progress  of  the  day  he  said  to 
the  doctor,  "  Cheer  up,  doctor,  cheer  up :  I  shall  not  die 
to-day.  You  will  get  me  along  to-day."  On  the  morning 
of  Saturday,  the  23d,  he  at  last  declared  expressly  to  the 
physician,  "  I  shall  die  to-night;"  and  herein  also  the  pre 
diction  proved  to  be  a  true  one. 

The  most  curious  incident  in  reference  to  the  death  of 
Daniel  Webster  is  the  fact  that  he  seemed  to  have  resolved 
to  watch  the  process  of  his  own  dissolution ;  to  employ  his 
intellectual  faculties  in  scrutinizing  the  successive  steps 
or  progress  of  that  mysterious  and  wondrous  change  which 
takes  place  when  the  soul,  gradually  severing  the  bonds 
which  bind  her  to  her  tenement  of  clay,  attains  her  disem 
bodied  state,  terminates  her  direct  contact  and  relation  to 
things  temporal  and  material,  and  passes  away  to  experience 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTEK.  153 

and  explore  the  realities  of  another  world.  Of  no  othei 
mortal,  either  distinguished  or  obscure,  is  a  similar  eccen 
tricity  recorded ;  but  it  is  precisely  such  a  development  of 
mental  power  and  tendency  which  might  have  been  ex 
pected  from  Daniel  Webster.  Accordingly,  during  the 
downward  progress  of  his  disease,  he  continued  to  watch 
every  symptom ;  and  his  intellectual  faculties,  instead  of 
becoming  weaker,  dimmer,  fainter,  as  the  great  crisis  ap 
proached,  seemed  to  retain  their  customary  power.  How 
far  this  colossal  intellect  was  able  to  carry  its  conscious 
scrutiny  of  its  own  experiences  into  the  solemn  and  marvel 
lous  mysteries  of  death,,  it  is  impossible  to  say ;  nor  can 
any  process  of  reasoning  prove  that  this  scrutiny  might 
not  have  been  persisted  in,  even  till  the  termination  of  the 
struggle  of  dissolving  nature,  and  till  the  full  freedom 
of  the  disembodied  spirit  had  been  attained  ;  but  it  is 
evident  that  Mr.  Webster's  singular  display  of  conscious 
thought  and  watchful  observation  continued  much  longer 
and  farther  within  the  dark  valley  and  shadow  of  death 
than  that  recorded  of  any  other  human  being  ;  and  that, 
until  the  body  lost  all  power  of  movement  and  sensation, 
his  mind,  the  inward  yet  departing  sentinel,  continued  to 
use  it  as  a  means  of  indicating  outwardly  to  those  around 
him,  the  existence  of  his  consciousness  and  of  his  observa 
tion  of  his  progressing  state.  His  last  words,  as  if  in 
tended  to  assure  those  who  were  near  him  that  though  his 
body  was  dying  his  mind  did  not  share  in  its  decay,  were, 
"  I  still  live  !"  His  spirit  ascended  to  the  God  who  gave 
it,  with  all  its  vast  capacities,  at  twenty-three  minutes  be 
fore  three  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  24th  of  October, 
1852.  He  was  in  the  seventy-first  year  of  his  age. 

As  a  whole,  the  character  of  Daniel  Webster  is  one  of 
the  most  massive  and  remarkable  which  the  history  of 
our  country  has  produced;  while  his  career  presents  a 


154  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES 

fulness  and  completeness  which  have  fallen  to  the  lot  of 
very  few  great  men,  and  which  are  highly  pleasing  to  the 
mind  of  the  thoughtful  observer.  Mr.  Webster  was  the 
Alexander  Hamilton  of  the  second  era  of  the  history  of 
this  Confederacy ;  and  he  resembled  that  illustrious  orator 
and  statesman  in  many  important  points  of  his  intellectual 
and  personal  character.  Hamilton's  was  the  most  original 
and  powerful  intellect  of  his  era ;  and  the  same  pre-emi 
nence  belongs  to  Mr.  Webster.  Hamilton's  mind  possessed 
great  variety  and  diversity  of  faculties ;  and  so  also  did 
Mr.  Webster's.  As  no  other  American  statesman  could 
have  written  those  portions  of  the  Federalist  which 
Hamilton  contributed,  so  no  statesman  of  Webster's  era 
could  have  delivered  his  speech  in  reply  to  Hayne,  or  on 
the  Compromise  measures.  Both  of  these  men  were 
eminent  as  lawyers,  as  political  orators,  as  the  originators 
of  new  expedients,  and  as  general  scholars.  Hamilton's 
mind  was  the  more  fertile,  the  more  elastic,  the  more 
brilliant,  of  the  two ;  Webster's  was  the  more  colossal, 
the  more  ponderous,  slower  in  movement,  but  perhaps 
ultimately  more  powerful  in  effect.  Unhappily  for  Hamil 
ton,  his  brilliant  career  was  cut  short  when  in  the  acme 
of  its  splendor,  by  the  hand  of  death ;  while  Mr.  Web 
ster's  was  fortunately  continued  during  a  long  series  of 
years,  until  the  usual  limit  of  man's  existence.  And  as 
no  human  character  is  perfect,  or  free  from  some  shadow 
of  defect,  it  deserves  to  be  noted  that  even  the  single 
vice  of  which  both  these  great  men  were  charged  was  the 
same ;  for  both  were  unduly  influenced  by  the  potent  yet 
perverted  fascinations  of  the  gentler  and  fairer  sex. 

Among  the  prominent  personal  traits  of  Mr.  Webster 
may  be  mentioned  his  fondness  for  the  details  and  experi 
ments  of  agriculture.  On  that  subject  his  conversation 
Was  always  remarkably  interesting  and  instructive.  His 


OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER.  155 

farm  at  Marshfield  was  tilled  in  an  admirable  manner; 
and  he  introduced  every  new  improvement,  and  imported 
the  best  breeds  of  cattle,  from  foreign  countries,  with  the 
interest  of  the  most  enthusiastic  connoisseur.  He  had 
spent  his  youth  amid  the  bracing  and  healthful  occupations 
of  husbandry ;  and  he  ever  afterward  retained  a  fond  at 
tachment  for  the  associations  and  experiences  of  the 
farm-house,  the  country,  and  the  rural  solitude. 

He  was  also  a  great  lover  of  books ;  and  a  large  apart 
ment  in  his  house  at  Marshfield  was  appropriated  to  the 
use  of  his  library.  This  was  a  very  extensive  and  valuable 
one,  comprising  some  thousands  of  volumes  in  every  de 
partment  of  science  and  learning ;  and  its  cost  to  him  was 
nearly  thirty  thousand  dollars.  His  amusements  were 
such  as  became  so  remarkable  a  man ;  for  he  delighted  in 
the  quiet  excitement  of  fishing  with  all  the  ardor  of  Izaac 
Walton  himself.  The  restless  billows  of  old  ocean  lave 
the  outskirts  of  his  farm  at  Marshfield ;  and  on  its  tempest- 
beaten  strand  the  great  statesman  delighted  often  to  wan 
der  alone,  to  gaze  upon  its  far-extending  and  ever-shifting 
expanse  of  waters,  and  to  listen  to  the  mournful  music  of  its 
multitudinous  murmurs.  What  an  interesting  sight  must 
that  have  been  to  the  curious  stranger  who  may  have  come 
from  a  distance  to  see  the  illustrious  statesman,  to  behold 
his  portly  form  for  the  first  time,  alone  on  the  sandy 
beach,  gazing  thoughtfully  out  upon  the  wide  waste  of 
waters,  and  lost  in  meditations,  reflections,  and  reminis 
cences  such  as  those  in  which  he  only  could  have  indulged ! 
Not  even  Marius  sitting  in  solitude  amid  the  ruins  of 
Carthage,  nor  Napoleon  standing  on  the  rocky  and  beetling 
cliffs  of  St.  Helena,  presents  to  our  mind  a  more  impressive 
or  interesting  picture. 

One  great  merit  of  Mr.  Webster's  mental  character  was 
the  admirable  proportion  of  all  his  faculties.  Other  jurists 


156  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES 

in  the  land  have  possessed  more  legal  learning ;  other 
orators  have  uttered  more  moving,  rhapsodical,  popular 
eloquence ;  other  politicians  have  shown  more  tact,  and 
more  insight  into  the  perfidious  workings  of  human  nature, 
as  developed  by  the  vicissitudes  of  party ;  other  savans 
have  had  more  scientific  culture ;  but  as  a  complete  and 
majestic  whole,  Mr.  Webster  had  no  equal  in  the  history  of 
his  times  for  an  assemblage  of  great  and  rare  qualities  com 
bined  together  in  one  intellect.  No  other  man  possessed 
so  many  different  great  faculties  developed  to  the  same 
wondrous  and  extreme  degree. 

As  an  orator,  Mr.  Webster's  manner  did  not  exhibit  the 
same  winning  and  mellifluous  fluency  which  characterized 
the  speeches  of  Henry  Clay.  On  ordinary  occasions  his 
delivery  was  rather  dull  and  heavy ;  but  when  fully 
aroused  by  the'  exigencies  of  some  important  crisis,  then 
he  was  matchless.  He  was  a  giant,  who  launched  his 
forensic  thunderbolts  with  a  degree  of  power  which  no 
other  orator  of  modern  times  possessed.  His  speeches 
always  read  to  advantage  when  printed,  which  effect  re 
sulted  from  the  inherent  substance  and  superior  value 
which  they  contained ;  whereas  the  orations  of  Mr.  Clay 
lost  their  most  potent  charm  and  their  greatest  merit  the 
moment  they  were  committed  to  paper.  The  reason  of 
this  peculiarity  was,  because  with  Mr.  Clay  the  chief  ex 
cellence  was  the  delivery ;  with  Mr.  Webster  the  main 
value  was  the  substance.  Yet  the  speeches  of  Mr.  Web 
ster  were  not  devoid  of  the  beauties  of  the  imagination ; 
for  he  was  a  lover  of  poetry,  was  familiar  with  the  best 
productions  of  the  modern  muse,  and  frequently  quoted 
select  and  appropriate  passages  from  his ,  favorite  authors 
with  great  effect  and  propriety.  His  memory,  indeed, 
was  accurate  and  tenacious  to  a  very  rare  degree ;  and  it 


OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER.  157 

was  richly  stored  with  all  the  treasures  of  varied  know 
ledge. 

As  a  reasoner,  Mr.  Webster  was  a  match  even  for  the 
great  master  of  logic  in  the  Senate,  Mr.  John  C.  Calhoun. 
In  all  his  arguments  and  combats  with  that  able  man, 
he  ever  proved  his  superiority  to  him,  even  on  his  favorite 
field  of  intellectual  effort.  No  sophistry  could  blind  him  ; 
no  metaphysical  labyrinth  of  specious  ratiocination  could 
mislead  or  delude  him  as  to  the  true  fact  or  principles  in 
volved  in  the  case.  He  probed  to  the  bottom  of  every 
subject,  and  brought  up  the  gem  of  truth  to  the  light  of 
day,  however  deeply  it  may  have  laid  embedded  in  the 
depths  of  the  abyss  of  error  and  of  falsehood.  When 
occasion  called  for  the  display  of  sarcasm  and  invective, 
no  orator  could  ever  exceed  him  in  the  use  of  those 
formidable  and  terrible  weapons.  Let  the  discomfiture 
of  Mr.  Hayne,  and  the  obliteration  of  Mr.  Ingersoll,  bear 
witness  to  his  destructive  power  in  this  respect.  In 
general,  he  was  mild  and  courteous  in  his  intercourse  with 
his  fellow-men,  and  was  ever  ready  to  extend  the  generous 
hand  of  charity  to  those  who  might  desire  or  request  his 
interposition.  At  the  same  time,  he  was  dauntless  and 
full  of  fortitude.  No  opposition  or  hostile  combination 
could  terrify  or  move  him.  At  one  time  a  ponderous 
load  of  public  opprobrium  and  censure  lay  upon  his 
shoulders, — a  fate  which  also  fell  to  the  lot  of  Henry 
Clay  at  a  certain  period  of  his  career ;  but  he  bore  that 
burden,  as  did  the  great  Kentucky  statesman,  as  superior 
and  powerful  natures  always  endure  calamities  and  vicis 
situdes  of  that  description,  with  a  dignified,  undaunted, 
<md  defiant  self-reliance,  not  unmingled  with  contempt  for 
his  persecutors,  which  sustained  him  successfully  even 
during  his  darkest  hour.  As  the  expounder  and  defender 
af  the  Federal  Constitution,  he  was  unrivalled ;  and  his 

14 


158         THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

judgments  and  opinions  on  that  important  subject  will 
always  remain  indisputable  and  unanswerable  dicta,  for  the 
future  guidance  and  instruction  of  his  countrymen. 

The  contemplation  of  the  fame  of  such  a  man  is  a 
pleasing  theme  for  those  who  rejoice  in  the  excellence  and 
elevation  of  human  nature.  It  shows  us  how  great,  how 
noble,  how  powerful,  humanity  can  become,  and  reminds 
us  that,  while  the  history  of  the  race  is  filled  with  count 
less  proofs  of  its  imbecility,  misery,  and  degradation,  such 
defects  are  not  inherent  in  the  nature  and  destiny  of 
humanity ;  but  that  it  may,  and  it  sometimes  does,  rise  in 
majesty  and  grandeur  to  an  equality  even  with  angels. 
Mr.  Webster's  fame  is  immortal;  for  it  is  indissolubly 
identified  with  the  growing  greatness  of  that  vast  Con 
federacy  whose  federal  unity  in  critical  times  he  more  than 
once  preserved  from  ruin.  He  needs  no  better  monument 
than  the  living  and  perpetual  memory  of  his  own  great 
thoughts  and  deeds.  Men  may  erect  statues  to  his  honor; 
the  sculptor  may  transfer  to  the  speaking  marble  the 
faultless  semblance  of  his  person ;  the  skilful  painter  may 
depict  on  the  breathing  canvas  that  form  and  those  fea 
tures  which  overawed  and  impressed  his  own  generation 
with  a  clear  consciousness  of  his  vast  superiority :  all 
these  expedients  are  useless ;  for,  though  dead,  he  yet 
speaketh;  and  he  will  continue  to  speak,  until  the  last 
hour  of  recorded  time,  as  one  of  the  most  profound,  most 
patriotic,  and  most  eloquent  of  Americans. 


SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


i. 

MR.  WEBSTER'S  REPLY  TO  MR.  HAYNE. 

In  the  United  States  Senate.  January  26,  1830. 


FOLLOWING  Mr.  Hayne  in  the  debate,  Mr.  Webster  ad- 
dx  gssed  the  Senate  as  follows  : 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  When  the  mariner  has  been  tossed,  for 
many  days,  in  thick  weather,  and  on  an  unknown  sea,  ho 
naturally  avails  himself  of  the  first  pause  in  the  storm, 
the  earliest  glance  of  the  sun,  to  take  his  latitude,  and 
ascertain  how  far  the  elements  have  driven  him  from  his 
true  course.  Let  us  imitate  this  prudence,  and,  before  we 
float  farther,  refer  to  the  point  from  which  we  departed, 
that  we  may  at  least  be  able  to  conjecture  where  we  now 
are.  I  ask  for  the  reading  of  the  resolution. 
[The  Secretary  read  the  resolution,  as  follows : 
''Resolved,  That  the  committee  on  public  lands  be  in 
structed  to  inquire  and  report  the  quantity  of  the  public 
lands  remaining  unsold  within  each  State  and  Territory, 
and  whether  it  be  expedient  to  limit,  for  a  certain  period, 
the  sales  of  the  public  lands  to  such  lands  only  as  have 
heretofore  been  offered  for  sale  and  are  now  subject  to 
entry  at  the  minimum  price.  And,  also,  whether  the  office 
of  surveyor-general,  and  some  of  the  land-offices,  may  not 

169 


160         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

be  abolished  without  detriment  to  the  public  interest ;  or 
whether  it  be  expedient  to  adopt  measures  to  hasten  the 
sales  and  extend  more  rapidly  the  surveys  of  the  public 
lands."] 

We  have  thus  heard,  sir,  what  the  resolution  is,  which 
is  actually  before  us  for  consideration ;  and  it  will  readily 
occur  to  every  one  that  it  is  almost  the  only  subject  about 
which  something  has  not  been  said  in  the  speech,  running 
through  two  days,  by  which  the  Senate  has  been  now  enter 
tained  by  the  gentleman  from  South  Carolina.  Every 
topic  in  the  wide  range  of  our  public  affairs,  whether  past 
or  present, — every  thing,  general  or  local,  whether  belong 
ing  to  national  politics  or  party  politics, — seems  to  have 
attracted  more  or  less  of  the  honorable  member's  attention, 
save  only  the  resolution  before  us.  He  has  spoken  of 
every  thing  but  the  public  lands.  They  have  escaped  his 
notice.  To  that  subject,  in  all  his  excursions,  he  has  not 
paid  even  the  cold  respect  of  a  passing  glance. 

When  this  debate,  sir,  was  to  be  resumed,  on  Thursday 
morning,  it  so  happened  that  it  would  have  been  convenient 
for  me  to  be  elsewhere.  The  honorable  member,  however, 
did  not  incline  to  put  off  the  discussion  to  another  day. 
He  had  a  shot,  he  said,  to  return,  and  he  wished  to  dis 
charge  it.  That  shot,  sir,  which  it  was  kind  thus  to  inform 
us  was  coming,  that  we  might  stand  out  of  the  way,  or 
prepare  ourselves  to  fall  before  it,  and  die  with  decency, 
has  now  been  received.  Under  all  advantages,  and  with 
expectation  awakened  by  the  tone  which  preceded  it,  it  has 
been  discharged,  and  has  spent  its  force.  It  may  become 
me  to  say  no  more  of  its  effect  than  that,  if  nobody  is 
found,  after  all,  either  killed  or  wounded  by  it,  it  is  not  the 
first  time  in  the  history  of  human  affairs  that  the  vigor  and 
success  of  the  war  have  not  quite  come  up  to  the  lofty  and 
Bounding  phrase  of  the  manifesto. 


REPLY   TO    MIL  HAYNE.  161 

The  gentleman,  sir,  in  declining  to  postpone  the  debate, 
told  the  Senate,  with  the  emphasis  of  his  hand  upon  his 
heart,  that  there  was  something  rankling  here,  which  he 
wished  to  relieve.  [Mr.  Hayne  rose  and  disclaimed  having 
used  the  word  rankling."]  It  would  not,  Mr.  President,  be 
safe  for  the  honorable  member  to  appeal  to  those  around 
him,  upon  the  question  whether  he  did,  in  fact,  make  use 
of  that  word.  But  he  may  have  been  unconscious  of  it. 
At  any  rate,  it  is  enough  that  he  disclaims  it.  But  still, 
with  or  without  the  use  of  that  particular  word,  he  had  yet 
something  here,  he  said,  of  which  he  wished  to  rid  himself 
by  an  immediate  reply.  In  this  respect,  sir,  I  have  a  great 
advantage  over  the  honorable  gentleman.  There  is  nothing 
here,  sir,  which  gives  me  the  slightest  uneasiness ;  neither 
fear,  nor  anger,  nor  that  which  is  sometimes  more  trouble 
some  than  either, — the  consciousness  of  having  been  in  the 
wrong.  There  is  nothing  either  originating  here,  or  now 
received  here  by  .the  gentleman's  shot.  Nothing  original, 
for  I  had  not  the  slightest  feeling  of  disrespect  or  unkind- 
ness  toward  the  honorable  member.  Some  passages,  it  is 
true,  had  occurred,  since  our  acquaintance  in  this  body, 
which  I  could  have  wished  might  have  been  otherwise ;  but 
I  had  used  philosophy,  and  forgotten  them.  When  the 
honorable  member  rose,  in  his  first  speech,  I  paid  him  the 
respect  of  attentive  listening ;  and  when  he  sat  down, 
though  surprised,  and  I  must  say  even  astonished,  at  some 
of  his  opinions,  nothing  was  further  from  my  intention 
than  to  commence  any  personal  warfare ;  and  through  the 
whole  of  the  few  remarks  I  made  in  answer,  I  avoided, 
studiously  and  carefully,  every  thing  which  I  thought  pos 
sible  to  be  construed  into  disrespect.  And,  sir,  while  there 
is  thus  nothing  originating  here,  which  I  wished  at  any  time, 
or  now  wish,  to  discharge,  I  must  repeat,  also,  that  nothing 
has  been  received  here  which  rankles,  or  in  any  way  gives 

14* 


162  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

me  annoyance.  I  will  not  accuse  the  honorable  membel 
of  violating  the  rules  of  civilized  war :  I  will  not  say  that 
he  poisoned  his  arrows.  But  whether  his  shafts  were,  or 
were  not,  dipped  in  that  which  would  have  caused  rankling 
if  they  had  reached,  there  was  not,  as  it  happened,  quite 
strength  enough  in  the  bow  to  bring  them  to  their  mark. 
If  he  wishes  now  to  find  those  shafts,  he  must  look  for 
them  elsewhere  :  they  will  not  be  found  fixed  and  quivering 
in  the  object  at  which  they  were  aimed. 

The  honorable  member  complained  that  I  had  slept  on 
his  speech.  I  must  have  slept  on  it,  or  not  slept  at  all. 
The  moment  the  honorable  member  sat  down,  his  friend 
from  Missouri  rose,  and,  with  much  honeyed  commendation 
of  the  speech,  suggested  that  the  impressions  which  it  had 
produced  were  too  charming  and  delightful  to  be  disturbed 
by  other  sentiments  or  other  sounds,  and  proposed  that 
the  Senate  should  adjourn.  Would  it  have  been  quite 
amiable  in  me,  sir,  to  interrupt  this  excellent  good  feeling  ? 
Must  I  not  have  been  absolutely  malicious,  if  I  could  have 
thrust  myself  forward  to  destroy  sensations  thus  pleasing? 
Was  it  not  much  better  and  kinder,  both  to  sleep  upon 
them  myself,  and  to  allow  others,  also,  the  pleasure  of 
sleeping  upon  them  ?  But  if  it  be  meant,  by  sleeping 
upon  his  speech,  that  I  took  time  to  prepare  a  reply  to  it, 
it  is  quite  a  mistake.  Owing  to  other  engagements,  I  could 
not  employ  even  the  interval  between  the  adjournment  of 
the  Senate  and  its  meeting  the  next  morning  in  attention 
to  the  subject  of  this  debate.  Nevertheless,  sir,  the  mere 
matter  of  fact  is  undoubtedly  true :  I  did  sleep  on  the 
gentleman's  speech,  and  slept  soundly.  And  I  slept 
equally  well  on  his  speech  of  yesterday,  to  which  I  am 
now  replying.  It  is  quite  possible  that,  in  this  respect 
also,  I  possess  some  advantage  over  the  honorable  member, 
attributable,  doubtless,  to  a  cooler  temperament  on  my 


KEPLY   TO    MR.  IIAYNE.  163 

part ;  for,  in  truth,  I  slept  upon  his  speeches  remarkably 
well.  But  the  gentleman  inquires  why  he  was  made  the 
object  of  such  a  reply.  Why  was  he  singled  out  ?  If  an 
attack  had  been  made  on  the  East,  he,  he  assures  us,  did 
not  begin  it :  it  was  the  gentleman  from.  Missouri.  Sir,  I 
answered  the  gentleman's  speech  because  I  happened  to 
hear  it ;  and  because,  also,  I  chose  to  give  an  answer  to 
that  speech,  which,  if  unanswered,  I  thought  most  likely 
to  produce  injurious  impressions.  I  did  not  stop  to  inquire 
who  was  the  original  drawer  of  the  bill.  I  found  a  respon 
sible  endorser  before  me,  and  it  was  my  purpose  to  hold 
him  reliable,  and  to  bring  him  to  his  just  responsibility 
without  delay.  But,  sir.  this  interrogatory  of  the  honor 
able  member  was  only  introductory  to  another.  He  pro 
ceeded  to  ask  me  whether  I  had  turned  upon  him  in  this 
debate  from  the  consciousness  that  I  should  find  an  over 
match  if  I  ventured  on  a  contest  with  his  friend  from  Mis 
souri.  If,  sir,  the  honorable  member,  ex  gratia  modestice, 
had  chosen  thus  to  defer  to  his  friend,  and  to  pay  him  a 
compliment,  without  intentional  disparagement  to  others, 
it  would  have  been  quite  according  to  the  friendly  courte 
sies  of  debate,  and  not  at  all  ungrateful  to  my  own  feelings. 
I  am  not  one  of  those,  sir,  who  esteem  any  tribute  of  regard, 
whether  light  and  occasional,  or  more  serious  and  delibe 
rate,  which  may  be  bestowed  on  others,  as  so  much  unjustly 
withholden  from  themselves.  But  the  tone  and  manner  of 
the  gentleman's  question  forbid  me  thus  to  interpret  it.  I 
am  not  at  liberty  to  consider  it  as  nothing  more  than  a 
civility  to  his  friend.  It  had  an  air  of  taunt  and  disparage 
ment,  a  little  of  the  loftiness  of  asserted  superiority,  which 
does  not  allow  me  to  pass  it  over  without  notice.  It  was 
put  as  a  question  for  me  to  answer,  and  so  put  as  if  it  were 
difficult  for  me  to  answer,  whether  I  deemed  the  member 
from  Missouri  an  overmatch  for  myself  in  debate  here.  It 


1G4  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

Beems  to  me,  sir,  that  is  extraordinary  language,  and  an 
extraordinary  tone  for  the  discussions  of  this  body. 

Matches  and  overmatches  !  Those  terms  are  more  ap 
plicable  elsewhere  than  here,  and  fitter  for  other  assemblies 
than  this.  Sir,  the  gentleman  seems  to  forget  where  and 
what  we  are.  This  is  a  Senate  ;  a  Senate  of  equals  ;  of  men 
of  individual  honor  and  personal  character,  and  of  absolute 
independence.  We  know  no  masters  ;  we  acknowledge  no 
dictators.  This  is  a  hall  for  mutual  consultation  and  dis 
cussion,  not  an  arena  for  the  exhibition  of  champions.  I 
offer  myself,  sir,  as  a  match  for  no  man ;  I  throw  the  chal 
lenge  of  debate  at  no  man's  feet.  But  then,  sir,  since  the 
honorable  member  has  put  the  question  in  a  manner  that 
calls  for  an  answer,  I  will  give  him  an  answer ;  and  I  tell 
him  that,  holding  myself  to  be  the  humblest  of  the  members 
here,  I  yet  know  nothing  in  the  arm  of  his  friend  from  Mis 
souri,  either  alone  or  when  aided  by  the  arm  of  his  friend 
from  South  Carolina,  that  need  deter  even  me  from  espous 
ing  whatever  opinions  I  may  choose  to  espouse,  from  debat 
ing  whenever  I  may  choose  to  debate,  or  from  speaking 
whatever  I  may  see  fit  to  say  on  the  floor  of  the  Senate.  Sir, 
when  uttered  as  matter  of  commendation  or  compliment,  I 
should  dissent  from  nothing  which  the  honorable  member 
might  say  of  his  friend.  Still  less  do  I  put  forth  any  pre 
tensions  of  my  own.  But  when  put  to  me  as  matter  of 
taunt,  I  throw  it  back,  and  say  to  the  gentleman  that  he 
could  possibly  say  nothing  less  likely  than  such  a  com 
parison  to  wound  my  pride  of  personal  character.  The 
anger  of  its  tone  rescued  the  remark  from  intentional 
irony,  which  otherwise,  probably,  would  have  been  its 
general  acceptation.  But,  sir,  if  it  be  imagined  that  by 
this  mutual  quotation  and  commendation  ;  if  it  be  sup 
posed  that,  by  casting  the  characters  of  the  drama,  assign 
ing  to  each  his  part, — to  one  the  attack,  to  another  the 


EEPLY  TO   ME.  HAYNE.  165 

cry  of  onset, — or  if  it  be  thought  that  by  a  loud  and 
empty  vaunt  of  anticipated  victory  any  laurels  are  to  be 
won  here ;  if  it  be  imagined,  especially,  that  any  or  all 
these  things  will  shake  any  purpose  of  mine,  I  can  tg^ll 
the  honorable  member,  once  for  all,  that  he  is  greatly  mis 
taken,  and  that  he  is  dealing  with  one  of  whose  temper 
and  character  he  has  yet  much  to  learn.  Sir,  I  shall  not 
allow  myself,  on  this  occasion, — I  hope  on  no  occasion,-^ 
to  be  betrayed  into  any  loss  of  temper ;  but  if  provoked, 
as  I  trust  I  never  shall  allow  myself  to  be,  into  crimina 
tion  and  recrimination,  the  honorable  member  may,  per 
haps,  find  that  in  that  contest  there  will  be  blows  to  take 
as  well  as  blows  to  give ;  that  others  can  state  comparisons 
as  significant,  at  least,  as  his  own ;  and  that  his  impunity 
may,  perhaps,  demand  of  him  whatever  powers  of  taunt 
and  sarcasm  he  may  possess.  I  commend  him  to  a  pru 
dent  husbandry  of  his  resources. 

But,  sir,  the  coalition  !  The  coalition  !  Ay,  "  the  mur 
dered  coalition  !"  The  gentleman  asks  if  I  were  led  or 
frighted  into  this  debate  by  the  spectre  of  the  coalition. 
"  Was  it  the  ghost  of  the  murdered  coalition,"  he  exclaims, 
"  which  haunted  the  member  from  Massachusetts,  and 
which,  like  the  ghost  of  Banquo,  would  never  down  ?" 
"  The  murdered  coalition!"  Sir,  this  charge  of  coalition, 
in  reference  to  the  late  administration,  is  not  original  with 
the  honorable  member.  It  did  not  spring  up  in  the  Senate. 
Whether  as  a  fact,  as  an  argument,  or  as  an  embellishment, 
it  is  all  borrowed.  He  adopts  it,  indeed,  from  a  very  low 
origin,  and  a  still  lower  present  condition.  It  is  one  of 
the  thousand  calumnies  with  which  the  press  teemed  during 
an  excited  political  canvass.  It  was  a  charge  of  which 
there  was  not  only  no  proof  or  probability,  but  which  was, 
in  itself,  wholly  impossible  to  be  true.  No  man  of  com 
mon  information  ever  believed  a  syllable  of  it.  Yet  it  was 


166         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

of  that  class  of  falsehoods  which,  by  continued  repetition 
through  all  the  organs  of  detraction  and  abuse,  are  capa 
ble  of  misleading  those  who  are  already  far  misled,  and 
of  further  fanning  passion  already  kindled  into  flame. 
Doubtless  it  served  its  day,  and,  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree,  the  end  designed  by  it.  Having  done  that,  it  has 
sunk  into  the  general  mass  of  stale  and  loathed  calumnies. 
It  is  the  very  cast-off  slough  of  a  polluted  and  shameless 
press.  Incapable  of  further  mischief,  it  lies  in  the  sewer, 
lifeless  and  despised.  It  is  not  now,  sir,  in  the  power  of 
the  honorable  member  to  give  it  dignity  or  decency,  by  at 
tempting  to  elevate  it,  and  to  introduce  it  into  the  Senate. 
He  cannot  change  it  from  what  it  is, — an  object  of  general 
disgust  and  scorn.  On  the  contrary,  the  contact,  if  he 
choose  to  touch  it,  is  more  likely  to  drag  him  down,  down, 
to  the  place  where  it  lies  itself. 

But,  sir,  the  honorable  member  was  not,  for  other 
reasons,  entirely  happy  in  his  allusion  to  the  story  of 
Banquo's  murder  and  Banquo's  ghost.  It  was  not,  I 
think,  the  friends,  but  the  enemies  of  the  murdered 
Banquo,  at  whose  bidding  his  spirit  would  not  down.  The 
honorable  gentleman  is  fresh  in  his  reading  of  the  English 
classics,  and  can  put  me  right  if  I  am  wrong ;  but,  ac 
cording  to  my  poor  recollection,  it  was  at  those  who  had 
begun  with  caresses,  and  ended  with  foul  and  treacherous 
murder,  that  the  gory  locks  were  shaken.  The  ghost  of 
Banquo,  like  that  of  Hamlet,  was  an  honest  ghost.  It 
disturbed  no  innocent  man.  It  knew  where  its  appearance 
would  strike  terror,  and  who  would  cry  out,  A  ghost !  It 
made  itself  visible  in  the  right  quarter,  and  compelled  the 
guilty  and  the  conscience-smitten,  and  none  others,  to 
start,  with 

"  Prithee,  see  there  !  behold  ! — look !  lo  ! 
If  I  stcand  here,  I  saw  him !" 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  167 

Their  eyeballs  were  seared — was  it  not  so,  sir  ? — who  had 
thought  to  shield  themselves  by  concealing  their  own  hand, 
and  laying  the  imputation  of  the  crime  on  a  low  and  hire 
ling  agency  in  wickedness ;  who  had  vainly  attempted  to 
stifle  the  workings  of  their  own  coward  consciences,  by 
ejaculating,  through  white  lips  and  chattering  teeth, 
"  Thou  canst  not  say  I  did  it !"  I  have  misread  the 
great  poet,  if  it  was  those  who  had  noway  partaken  in 
the  deed  of  death,  who  either  found  that  they  were,  or 
feared  that  they  should  be,  pushed  from  their  stools  by  the 
ghost  of  the  slain,  or  who  cried  out  to  a  spectre  created 
by  their  own  fears  and  their  own  remorse,  "  A  vaunt.!  and 
quit  our  sight !" 

There  is  another  particular,  sir,  in  which  the  honorable 
member's  quick  perception  of  resemblances  might,  I  should 
think,  have  seen  something  in  the  story  of  Banquo,  making 
it  not  altogether  a  subject  of  the  most  pleasant  contempla 
tion.  Those  who  murdered  Banquo,  what  did  they  win  by 
it  ?  Substantial  good  ?  Permanent  power  ?  Or  disappoint 
ment,  rather,  and  sore  mortification — dust  and  ashes — the 
common  fate  of  vaulting  ambition  overleaping  itself?  Did 
not  even-handed  justice,  ere  long,  commend  the  poisoned 
chalice  to  their  own  lips  ?  Did  they  not  soon  find  that  for 
another  they  had  "filed  their  mind"? — that  their  ambi 
tion,  though  apparently  for  the  moment  successful,  had 
but  put  a  barren  sceptre  in  their  grasp  ?  Ay,  sir, — 

"  A  barren  sceptre  in  their  gripe, 

Thence  to  be  wrench' d  by  an  unlineal  hand, 
No  son  of  theirs  succeeding." 

Sir,  I  need  pursue  the  allusion  no  further.  I  leave  the 
honorable  gentleman  to  run  it  out  at  his  leisure,  and  to 
derive  from  it  all  the  gratification  it  is  calculated  to  ad 
minister.  If  he  finds  himself  pleased  with  the  associa- 


168  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

tions,  and  prepared  to  be  quite  satisfied,  though  the 
parallel  should  be  entirely  completed,  I  had  almost  said 
I  am  satisfied  also  ;  but  that  I  shall  think  of.  Yes,  sir,  I 
will  think  of  that. 

In  the  course  of  my  observations  the  other  day,  Mr. 
President,  I  paid  a  passing  tribute  of  respect  to  a  very 
worthy  man,  Mr.  Dane,  of  Massachusetts.  It  so  hap 
pened,  that  he  drew  the  ordinance  of  1787  for  the  govern 
ment  of  the  Northwestern  Territory.  A  man  of  so  much 
ability,  and  so  little  pretence ;  of  so  great  a  capacity  to 
do  good,  and  so  unmixed  a  disposition  to  do  it  for  its  own 
sake ;.  a  gentleman  who  acted  an  important  part,  forty 
years  ago,  in  a  measure  the  influence  of  which  is  still 
deeply  felt  in  the  very  matter  which  was  the  subject  of 
debate,  might,  I  thought,  receive  from  me  a  commendatory 
recognition. 

But  the  honorable  member  was  inclined  to  be  facetious 
on  the  subject.  He  was  rather  disposed  to  make  it  matter 
of  ridicule  that  I  had  introduced  into  the  debate  the  name 
of  one  Nathan  Dane,  of  whom  he  assures  us  he  had  never 
before  heard.  Sir,  if  the  honorable  member  had  never 
before  heard  of  Mr.  Dane,  I  am  sorry  for  it.  It  shows 
him  less  acquainted  with  the  public  men  of  the  country 
than  I  had  supposed.  Let  me  tell  him,  however,  that  a 
sneer  from  him  at  the  mention  of  the  name  of  Mr.  Dane 
is  in  bad  taste.  It  may  well  be  a  high  mark  of  ambition, 
sir,  either  with  the  honorable  gentleman  or  myself,  to  ac 
complish  as  much  to  make  our  names  known  to  advantage, 
and  remembered  with  gratitude,  as  Mr.  Dane  has  accom 
plished.  But  the  truth  is,  sir,  I  suspect  Mr.  Dane  lives 
a  little  too  far  north.  He  is  of  Massachusetts,  and  too 
near  the  North  Star  to  be  reached  by  the  honorable  gentle 
man's  telescope.  If  his  sphere  had  happened  to  range 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  169 

south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line,  he  might,  probably,  have 
come  within  the  scope  of  his  vision  ! 

I  spoke,  sir,  of  the  ordinance  of  1787,  which  prohibited 
slavery  in  all  future  time  northwest  of  the  Ohio,  as  a  measure 
of  great  wisdom  and  foresight,  and  one  which  had  been 
attended  with  highly  beneficial  and  permanent  conse 
quences.  I  supposed  that  on  this  point  no  two  gentle 
men  in  the  Senate  could  entertain  different  opinions.  But 
the  simple  expression  of  this  sentiment  has  led  the  gentle 
man,  not  only  into  a  labored  defence  of  slavery  in  the 
abstract,  and  on  principle,  but  also  into  a  warm  accusation 
against  me,  as  having  attacked  the  system  of  domestic 
slavery  now  existing  in  the  Southern  States.  For  all  this 
there  was  not  the  slightest  foundation  in  any  thing  said  or 
intimated  by  me.  I  did  not  utter  a  single  word  which 
any  ingenuity  could  torture  into  an  attack  on  the  slavery 
of  the  South.  I  said  only  that  it  was  highly  wise  and 
useful,  in  legislating  for  the  Northwestern  country,  while 
it  was  yet  a  wilderness,  to  prohibit  the  introduction  of 
slaves ;  and  added,  that  I  presumed,  in  the  neighboring 
State  of  Kentucky,  there  was  no  reflecting  and  intelligent 
gentleman  who  would  doubt  that,  if  the  same  prohibition 
had  been  extended,  at  the  same  early  period,  over  that 
commonwealth,  her  strength  and  population  would,  at  this 
day,  have  been  far  greater  than  they  are.  If  these 
opinions  be  thought  doubtful,  they  are,  nevertheless,  I 
trust,  neither  extraordinary  nor  disrespectful.  They  at 
tack  nobody  and  menace  nobody.  And  yet,  sir,  the 
gentleman's  optics  have  discovered,  even  in  the  mere  ex 
pression  of  this  sentiment,  what  he  calls  the  very  spirit  of 
the  Missouri  question  !  He  represents  me  as  making  an 
onset  on  the  whole  South,  and  manifesting  a  spirit  which 
would  interfere  with  and  disturb  their  domestic  condition. 
Sir,  this  injustice  no  otherwise  surprises  me  than  as  it  is 

15 


170         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

done  here,  and  done  without  the  slightest  pretence  of 
ground  for  it.  I  say  it  only  surprises  me  as  being  done 
here ;  for  I  know  full  well  that  it  is  and  has  been  the 
settled  policy  of  some  persons  in  the  South,  for  years,  to 
represent  the  people  of  the  North  as  disposed  to  inter 
fere  with  them  in  their  own  exclusive  and  peculiar  con 
cerns.  This  is  a  delicate  and  sensitive  point  in  Southern 
feeling  ;  and  of  late  years  it  has  always  been*  touched, 
and  generally  with  effect,  whenever  the  object  has  been 
to  unite  the  whole  South  against  Northern  men  or 
Northern  measures.  This  feeling,  always  carefully  kept 
alive,  and  maintained  at  too  intense  a  heat  to  admit  dis 
crimination  or  reflection,  is  a  lever  of  great  power  in  our 
political  machine.  It  moves  vast  bodies,  and  gives  to 
them  one  and  the  same  direction.  But  the  feeling  is 
without  adequate  cause,  and  the  suspicion  which  exists 
wholly  groundless.  There  is  not,  and  never  has  been,  a 
disposition  in  the  North  to  interfere  with  these  interests 
of  the  South.  Such  interference  has  never  been  supposed 
to  be  within  the  power  of  Government,- nor  has  it  been  in 
any  way  attempted.  It  has  always  been  regarded  as  a 
matter  of  domestic  policy,  left  with  the  States  themselves, 
and  with  which  the  Federal  Government  had  nothing  to 
do.  Certainly,  sir,  I  am,  and  ever  have  been,  of  that 
opinion.  The  gentleman,  indeed,  argues  that  slavery  in 
the  abstract  is  no  evil.  Most  assuredly  I  need  not  say  I 
differ  with  him  altogether  and  most  widely  on  that  point. 
I  regard  domestic  slavery  as  one  of  the  greatest  of  evils, 
both  moral  and  political.  But,  though  it  be  a  malady, 
and  whether  it  be  curable,  and  if  so,  by  what  means,  or, 
on  the  other  hand,  whether  it  be  the  vulnus  immedicabile 
of  the  social  system,  I  leave  it  to  those  whose  right  and 
duty  it  is  to  inquire  and  to  decide.  And  this  I  believe, 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  171 

sir,    is,  and   uniformly    has   been,    the   sentiment  of  the 
North.     Let  us  look  a  little  at  the  history  of  this  matter. 

When  the  present  Constitution  was  submitted  for  the 
ratification  of  the  people,  there  were  those  who  imagined 
that  the  powers  of  the  government  which  it  proposed  to 
establish  might,  perhaps,  in  some  possible  mode,  be  exerted 
in  measures  tending  to  the  abolition  of  slavery.  This 
suggestion  would,  of  course,  attract  much  attention  in  the 
Southern  conventions.  In  that  of  Virginia,  Governor 
Randolph  said, 

"  I  hope  there  is  none  here,  who,  considering  the  subject 
in  the  calm  light  of  philosophy,  will  make  an  objection 
dishonorable  to  Virginia — that,  at  the  moment  they  are 
securing  the  rights  of  their  citizens,  an  objection  is  started, 
that  there  is  a  spark  of  hope  that  those  unfortunate  men 
now  held  in  bondage  may,  by  the  operation  of  the  General 
Government,  be  made  free." 

At  the  very  first  Congress,  petitions  on  the  subject  were 
presented,  if  I  mistake  not,  from  different  States.  The 
Pennsylvania  Society  for  Promoting  the  Abolition  of 
Slavery  took  a  lead,  and  laid  before  Congress  a  memorial, 
praying  Congress  to  promote  the  abolition  by  such  powers 
as  it  possessed.  This  memorial  was  referred,  in  the  House 
of  Representatives,  to  a  select  committee,  consisting  of  Mr. 
Foster,  of  New  Hampshire,  Mr.  Gerry,  of  Massachusetts, 
Mr.  Huntington,  of  Connecticut,  Mr.  Lawrence,  of  New 
York,  Mr.  Sinnickson,  of  New  Jersey,  Mr.  Hartley,  of 
Pennsylvania,  and  Mr.  Parker,  of  Virginia ;  all  of  them, 
sir,  as  you  will  observe,  Northern  men,  but  the  last.  This 
committee  made  a  report,  which  was  committed  to  a  com 
mittee  of  the  whole  House,  and  there  considered  and  dis 
cussed  on  several  days ;  and  being  amended,  although  in 
no  material  respect,  it  was  made  to  express  three  distinct 
propositions  on  the  subjects  of  slavery  and  the  slave-trade. 


172         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

First,  in  the  words  of  the  Constitution,  that  Congress 
could  not,  prior  to  the  year  1808,  prohibit  the  migration 
or  importation  of  such  persons  as  any  of  the  States  then 
existing  should  think  proper  to  admit.  Second,  that  Con 
gress  had  authority  to  restrain  the  citizens  of  the  United 
States  from  carrying  on  the  African  slave-trade  for  the 
purpose  of  supplying  foreign  countries.  On  this  proposi 
tion,  our  early  laws  against  those  who  engage  in  that  traffic 
are  founded.  The  third  proposition,  and  that  which  bears 
on  the  present  question,  was  expressed  in  the  following 
terms : 

"ttesolved,  That  Congress  have  no  authority  to  interfere 
in  the  emancipation  of  slaves,  or  in  the  treatment  of  them 
in  any  of  the  States ;  it  remaining  with  the  several  States 
alone  to  provide  rules  and  regulations  therein  which 
humanity  and  true  policy  may  require." 

This  resolution  received  the  sanction  of  the  House  of 
Representatives  so  early  as  March,  1790.  And  now,  sir, 
the  honorable  member  will  allow  me  to  remind  him,  that 
not  only  were  the  select  committee  who  reported  the  resolu 
tion,  with  a  single  exception,  all  Northern  men,  but  also 
that  of  the  members  then  composing  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives,  a  large  majority,  I  believe  nearly  two-thirds, 
were  Northern  men  also. 

The  House  agreed  to  insert  these  resolutions  in  its 
journal ;  and,  from  that  day  to  this,  it  has  never  been 
maintained  or  contended  that  Congress  had  any  authority 
to  regulate  or  interfere  with  the  condition  of  slaves  in  the 
several  States.  No  Northern  gentleman,  to  my  know 
ledge,  has  moved  any  such  question  in  either  House  of 
Congress. 

The  fears  of  the  South,  whatever  fears  they  might  have 
entertained,  were  allayed  and  quieted  by  this  early  deci 
sion  ;  and  so  remained,  till  they  were  excited  afresh,  with- 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  173 

out  cause,  but  for  collateral  and  indirect  purposes.  When 
it  became  necessary,  or  was  thought  so,  by  some  political 
persons,  to  find  an  unvarying  ground  for  the  exclusion  of 
Northern  men  from  confidence  and  from  lead  in  the  affairs 
of  the  Republic,  then,  and  not  till  then,  the  cry  was  raised, 
and  the  feeling  industriously  excited,  that  the  influence  of 
Northern  men  in  the  public  councils  would  endanger  the 
relation  of  master  and  slave.  For  myself,  I  claim  no  other 
merit,  than  that  this  gross  and  enormous  injustice  toward 
the  whole  North  has  not  wrought  upon  me  to  change  my 
opinions,  or  my  political  conduct.  I  hope  I  am  above 
violating  my  principles,  even  under  the  smart  of  injury 
and  false  imputations.  Unjust  suspicions  and  undeserved 
reproach,  whatever  pain  I  may  experience  from  them,  will 
not  induce  me,  I  trust,  nevertheless,  to  overstep  the  limits 
of  constitutional  duty,  or  to  encroach  on  the  rights  of 
others.  The  domestic  slavery  of  the  South  I  leave  where 
I  find  it — in  the  hands  of  their  own  Governments.  It  is 
their  affair,  not  mine.  Nor  do  I  complain  of  the  peculiar 
effect  which  the  magnitude  of  that  population  has  had  in 
the  distribution  of  power  under  this  Federal  Government. 
We  know,  sir,  that  the  representation  of  the  States  in  the 
other  House  is  not  equal.  We  know  that  great  advantage 
in  that  respect  is  enjoyed  by  the  slaveholding  States;  and 
we  know,  too,  that  the  intended  equivalent  for  that  advan 
tage — that  is  to  say,  the  imposition  of  direct  taxes  in  the 
same  ratio — has  become  merely  nominal ;  the  habit  of  the 
Government  being  almost  invariably  to  collect  its  revenues 
from  other  sources  and  in  other  modes.  Nevertheless,  I 
do  not  complain ;  nor  would  I  countenance  any  movement 
to  alter  this  arrangement  of  representation.  It  is  the 
original  bargain,  the  compact :  let  it  stand  ;  let  'the  advan 
tage  of  it  be  fully  enjoyed.  The  Union  itself  is  too  full 
of  benefit  to  be  hazarded  in  propositions  for  changing  its 


174         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

original  basis.  I  go  for  the  Constitution  as  it  is,  and  for 
the  Union  as  it  is.  But  I  am  resolved  not  to  submit,  in 
silence,  to  accusations,  either  against  myself  individually, 
or  against  the  North,  wholly  unfounded  and  unjust — ac 
cusations  which  impute  to  us  a  disposition  to  evade  the 
constitutional  compact  and  to  extend  the  power  of  the 
Government  over  the  internal  laws  and  domestic  condition 
of  the  States.  All  such  accusations,  wherever  and  when 
ever  made,  all  insinuations  of  the  existence  of  any  such 
purposes,  I  know  and  feel  to  be  groundless  and  injurious. 
And  we  must  confide  in  Southern  gentlemen  themselves ; 
we  must  trust  to  those  whose  integrity  of  heart  and  mag 
nanimity  of  feeling  will  lead  them  to  a  desire  to  maintain 
and  disseminate  truth,  and  who  possess  the  means  of  its 
diffusion  with  the  Southern  public ;  we  must  leave  it  to 
them  to  disabuse  that  public  of  its  prejudices.  But  in  the 
mean  time,  for  my  own  part,  I  shall  continue  to  act  justly, 
whether  those  toward  whom  justice  is  exercised  receive  it 
with  candor  or  with  contumely. 

Having  had  occasion  to  recur  to  the  ordinance  of  1787, 
in  order  to  defend  myself  against  the  inferences  which  the 
honorable  member  has  chosen  to  draw  from  my  former  ob 
servations  on  that  subject,  I  am  not  willing  now  entirely 
to  take  leave  of  it  without  another  remark.  It  need  hardly 
be  said,  that  that  paper  expresses  just  sentiments  on  the 
great  subject  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  Such  senti 
ments  were  common,  and  abound  in  all  our  State  papers 
of  that  day.  But  this  ordinance  did  that  which  was  not  so 
common,  and  which  is  not,  even  now,  universal ;  that  is,  it 
set  forth  and  declared,  as  a  high  and  binding  duty  of  Go 
vernment  itself,  to  encourage  schools  and  advance  the 
means  of  education  ;  on  the  plain  reason  that  religion, 
morality,  and  knowledge  are  necessary  to  good  govern 
ment  and  the  happiness  of  mankind.  One  observation 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  175 

further.  The  important  provision  incorporated  into  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  several  of  those  of 
the  States,  and  recently,  as  we  have  seen,  adopted  into  the 
reformed  Constitution  of  Virginia,  restraining  legislative 
power  in  questions  of  private  right  and  from  impairing 
the  obligation  of  contracts,  is  first  introduced  and  esta 
blished,  as  far  as  I  am  informed,  as  matter  of  express 
written  constitutional  law,  in  this  ordinance  of  1787.  And 
1  must  add,  also,  in  regard  to  the  author  of  the  ordinance, 
who  has  not  had  the  happiness  to  attract  the  gentleman's 
notice  heretofore,  nor  to  avoid  his  sarcasm  now,  that  he 
was  chairman  of  that  select  committee  of  the  old  Congress 
whose  report  first  expressed  the  strong  sense  of  that  body 
that  the  old  Confederation  was  not  adequate  to  the  exi 
gencies  of  the  country,  and  recommending  to  the  States  to 
send  delegates  to  the  convention  which  formed  the  present 
Constitution. 

An  attempt  has  been  made  to  transfer  from  the  North 
to  the  South  the  honor  of  this  exclusion  of  slavery  from 
the  Northwestern  Territory.  The  journal,  without  argu 
ment  or  comment,  refutes  such  attempt.  The  session  of 
Virginia  was  made  March,  1784.  On  the  19th  of  April 
following,  a  committee,  consisting  of  Messrs.  Jefferson, 
Chase,  and  Howell,  reported  a  plan  for  a  temporary  go 
vernment  of  the  Territory,  in  which  was  this  article : 
"  That  after  the  year  1800  there  shall  be  neither  slavery 
nor  involuntary  servitude  in  any  of  the  said  States,  other 
wise  than  in  punishment  of  crimes  whereof  the  party  shall 
have  been  convicted."  Mr.  Speight,  of  North  Carolina, 
moved  to  strike  out  this  paragraph.  The  question  was  put, 
according  to  the  form  then  practised  :  "  Shall  these  words 
stand,  as  part  of  the  plan,"  &c.  New  Hampshire,  Mas 
sachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  Connecticut,  New  York,  New 
Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania — seven  States — voted  in  the 


176  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

affirmative ;  Maryland,  Virginia,  and  South  Carolina  in 
the  negative.  North  Carolina  was  divided.  As  the  con 
sent  of  nine  States  was  necessary,  the  words  could  not 
stand,  and  were  struck  out  accordingly.  Mr.  Jefferson 
voted  for  the  clause,  but  was  overruled  by  his  colleagues. 

In  March  of  the  next  year,  (1785,)  Mr.  King,  of  Mas 
sachusetts,  seconded  by  Mr.  Ellery,  of  Rhode  Island,  pro 
posed  the  formerly-rejected  article,  with  this  addition: 
"And  that  this  regulation  shall  be  an  article  of  compact, 
and  remain  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  Constitution, 
between  the  thirteen  original  /States  and  each  of  the  States 
described  in  the  resolve"  &c.  On  this  clause,  which  pro 
vided  the  adequate  and  thorough  security,  the  eight 
Northern  States,  at  that  time,  voted  affirmatively,  and  the 
four  Southern  States  negatively.  The  votes  of  nine  States 
were  not  yet  obtained,  and  thus  the  provision  was  again 
rejected  by  the  Southern  States.  The  perseverance  of  the 
North  held  out,  and  two  years  afterward  the  object  was 
attained.  It  is  no  derogation  from  the  credit,  whatever 
that  may  be,  of  drawing  the  ordinance,  that  its  principles 
had  before  been  prepared  and  discussed,  in  the  form  of 
resolutions.  If  one  should  reason  in  that  way,  what  would 
become  of  the  distinguished  honor  of  the  author  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  ?  There  is  not  a  sentiment 
in  that  paper  which  had  not  been  voted  and  resolved  in  the 
assemblies,  and  other  popular  bodies  in  the  country,  over 
and  over  again. 

But  the  honorable  member  has  now  found  out  that  this 
gentleman,  Mr.  Dane,  was  a  member  of  the  Hartford  Con 
vention.  However  uninformed  the  honorable  member  may 
be  of  characters  and  occurrences  at  the  North,  it  would 
seem  that  he  has  at  his  elbows,  on  this  occasion,  some 
high-minded  and  lofty  spirit,  some  magnanimous  and  true* 
hearted  monitor,  possessing  the  means  of  local  knowledge, 


EEPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  177 

and  ready  to  supply  the  honorable  member  with  every 
thing,  down  even  to  forgotten  and  moth-eaten* twopenny 
pamphlets,  which  may  be  used  to  the  disadvantage  of  his 
own  country.  But,  as  to  the  Hartford  Convention,  sir, 
allow  me  to  say,  that  the  proceedings  of  that  body  seem 
now  to  be  less  read  and  studied  in  New  England  than 
farther  south.  They  appear  to  be  looked  to,  not  in  New 
England,  but  elsewhere,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  how  far 
they  may  serve  as  a  precedent.  But  they  will  not  answer 
the  purpose  :  they  are  quite  too  tame.  The  latitude  in 
which  they  originated  was  too  cold.  Other  conventions, 
of  more  recent  existence,  have  gone  a  whole  bar's  length 
beyond  it.  The  learned  doctors  of  Colleton  and  Abbeville 
have  pushed  their  commentaries  on  the  Hartford  collect  so 
far  that  the  original  text-writers  are  thrown  entirely  into 
the  shade.  I  have  nothing  to  do,  sir,  with  the  Hartford 
Convention.  Its  journal,  which  the  gentleman  has  quoted, 
I  never  read.  So  far  as  the  honorable  member  may  dis 
cover  in  its  proceedings  a  spirit  in  any  degree  resembling 
that  which  was  avowed  and  justified  in  those  other  con 
ventions  to  which  I  have  alluded,  or  so  far  as  those  pro 
ceedings  can  be  shown  to  be  disloyal  to  the  Constitution, 
or  tending  to  disunion,  so  far  I  shall  be  as  ready  as  any 
one  to  bestow  on  them  reprehension  and  censure. 

Having  dwelt  long  on  this  Convention,  and  other  occur 
rences  of  that  day,  in  the  hope,  probably,  (which  will  not 
be  gratified,)  that  I  should  leave  the  course  of  this  debate 
to  follow  him  at  length  in  those  excursions,  the  honorable 
member  returned,  and  attempted  another  object.  He 
referred  to  a  speech  of  mine  in  the  other  House,  the  same 
which  I  had  occasion  to  allude  to  myself  the  other  day, 
and  has  quoted  a  passage  or  two  from  it,  with  a  bold  though 
uneasy  and  laboring  air  of  confidence,  as  if  he  had  detected 
in  me  an  inconsistency.  Judging  from  the  gentleman's 


178         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

manner,  a  stranger  to  the  course  of  the  debate,  and  to  the 
point  in  discussion,  would  have  imagined*  from  so  triumphant 
a  tone,  that  the  honorable  member  was  about  to  overwhelm 
me  with  a  manifest  contradiction.  Any  one  who  heard 
him,  and  who  had  not  heard  what  I  had,  in  fact,  previously 
said,  must  have  thought  me  routed  and  discomfited,  as  the 
gentleman  had  promised.  Sir,  a  breath  blows  all  this 
triumph  away.  There  is  not  the  slightest  difference  in  the 
sentiments  of  my  remarks  on  the  two  occasions.  What  I 
said  here  on  Wednesday  is  in  exact  accordance  with  the 
opinions  expressed  by  me  in  the  other  House  in  1825. 
Though  the  gentleman  had  the  metaphysics  of  Hudibras, — 
though  he  were  able 

*'  to  sever  and  divide 
A  hair  'twixt  north  and  northwest  side," — 

he  could  not  yet  insert  his  metaphysical  scissors  between 
the  fair  reading  of  my  remarks  in  1825  and  what  I  said 
here  last  week.  There  is  not  only  no  contradiction,  no 
difference,  but,  in  truth,  too  exact  a  similarity,  both  in 
thought  and  language,  to  be  entirely  in  just  taste.  I  had 
myself  quoted  the  same  speech,  had  recurred  to  it,  and 
spoke  with  it  open  before  me;  and  much  of  what  I  said 
was  little  more  than  a  repetition  from  it.  In  order  to  make 
finishing  work  with  this  alleged  contradiction,  permit  me 
to  recur  to  the  origin  of  this  debate,  and  review  its  course. 
This  seems  expedient,  and  may  be  done  as  well  now  as  at 
any  tin^. 

Well,  then,  its  history  is  this :  the  honorable  member 
from  Connecticut  moved  a  resolution,  which  constituted 
the  first  branch  of  that  which  is  now  before  us ;  that  is  to 
say,  a  resolution  instructing  the  committee  on  public 
lands  to  inquire  into  the  expediency  of  limiting,  for  a 
certain  period,  the  sales  of  public  lands  to  such  as  have 


REPLY    TO    MR.  HAYNE.  179 

heretofore  been  offered  for  sale ;  and  whether  sundry 
offices,  connected  with  the  sales  of  the  lands,  might  not  be 
abolished  without  detriment  to  the  public  service. 

In  the  progress  of  the  discussion  which  a.rose  on  this 
resolution,  an  honorable  member  from  New  Hampshire 
moved  to  amend  the  resolution,  so  as  entirely  to  reverse 
its  object ;  that  is,  to  strike  it  all  out,  and  insert  a  direc 
tion  to  the  committee  to  inquire  into  the  expediency  of 
adopting  measures  to  hasten  the  sales  and  extend  more 
rapidly  the  surveys  of  the  lands. 

The  honorable  member  from  Maine  (Mr.  Spra.gue)  sug 
gested  that  both  these  propositions  might  well  enough  go, 
for  consideration,  to  the  committee ;  and  in  this  state  of 
the  question,  the  member  from  South  Carolina  addressed 
the  Senate  in  his  first  speech.  He  rose,  he  said,  to  give 
us  his  own  free  thoughts  on  the  public  lands.  I  saw  him 
rise  with  pleasure,  and  listened  with  expectation,  though 
before  he  concluded  I  was  filled  with  surprise.  Certainly, 
I  was  never  more  surprised  than  to  find  him  following  up, 
to  the  extent  he  did,  the  sentiments  and  opinions  which 
the  gentleman  from  Missouri  had  put  forth,  and  which  it 
is  known  he  has  long  entertained. 

I  need  not  repeat  at  large  the  general  topics  of  the 
honorable  gentleman's  speech.  When  he  said  yesterday 
that  he  did  not  attack  the  Eastern  States,  he  certainly 
must  have  forgotten  not  only  particular  remarks,  but  the 
whole  drift  and  tenor  of  his  speech  ;  unless  he  means  by 
not  attacking,  that  he  did  not  commence  hostilities,  but 
that  another  had  preceded  him  in  the  attack.  He,  in  the 
first  place,  disapproved  of  the  whole  course  of  the  Govern 
ment  for  forty  years,  in  regard  to  the  dispositions  of  the 
public  land  ;  and  then,  turning  northward  and  eastward, 
and  fancying  he  had  found  a  cause  for  alleged  narrowness 
and  niggardliness  in  the  "  accursed  policy"  of  the  tariff, 


180  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

to  which  he  represented  the  people  of  New  England  as 
wedded,  he  went  on,  for  a  full  hour,  with  remarks,  the 
whole  scope,  of  which  was  to  exhibit  the  results  of  this 
policy,  in  feelings  and  in  measures  unfavorable  to  the 
West.  I  thought  his  opinions  unfounded  and  erroneous 
as  to  the  general  course  of  the  Government,  and  ventured 
to  reply  to  them. 

The  gentleman  had  remarked  on  the  analogy  of  other 
cases,  and  quoted  the  conduct  of  European  Governments 
toward  their  own  subjects  settling  on  this  continent  as  in 
point,  to  show  that  we  had  been  harsh  and  rigid  in  selling 
when  we  should  have  given  the  public  lands  to  settlers.  I 
thought  the  honorable  member  had  suffered  his  judgment 
to  be  betrayed  by  a  false  analogy ;  that  he  was  struck 
with  an  appearance  of  resemblance  where  there  was  no 
real  similitude.  I  think  so  still.  The  first  settlers  of 
North  America  were  enterprising  spirits,  engaged  in 
private  adventure,  or  fleeing  from  tyranny  at  home. 
When  arrived  here,  they  were  forgotten  by  the  mother- 
country,  or  remembered  only  to  be  oppressed.  Carried 
away  again  by  the  appearance  of  analogy,  or  struck 
with  the  eloquence  of  the  passage,  the  honorable  member 
yesterday  observed  that  the  conduct  of  Government 
toward  the  Western  emigrants,  or  my  representation  of  it, 
brought  to  his  mind  a  celebrated  speech  in  the  British 
Parliament.  It  was,  sir,  the  speech  of  Colonel  Barrel 
On  the  question  of  the  stamp  act,  or  tea  tax,  I  forget  which, 
Colonel  Barre'  had  heard  a  member  on  the  Treasury  bench 
argue,  that  the  people  of  the  United  States,  being  British 
colonists,  planted  by  the  maternal  care,  nourished  by  the 
indulgence,  and  protected  by  the  arms  of  England,  would 
not  grudge  their  mite  to  relieve  the  mother-country  from 
the  heavy  burden  under  which  she  groaned.  The  lan 
guage  of  Colonel  Barrd  in  reply  to  this  was,  "  They 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  181 

planted  by  your  care  ?  Your  oppression  planted  them  in 
America.  They  fled  from  your  tyranny,  and  grew  by 
your  neglect  of  them.  So  soon  as  you  began  to  care  for 
them,  you  showed  your  care  by  sending  persons  to  spy  out 
their  liberties,  misrepresent  their  character,  prey  upon 
them,  and  eat  out  their  substance." 

And  now,  does  the  honorable  gentleman  mean  to  main 
tain  that  language  like  this  is  applicable  to  the  conduct 
of  the  Government  of  the  United  States  toward  the 
Western  emigrants,  or  to  any  representation  given  by  me 
of  that  conduct  ?  Were  the  settlers  in  the  West  driven 
thither  by  our  oppression  ?  Have  they  flourished  only  by 
our  neglect  of  them  ?  Has  the  Government  done  nothing 
but  to  prey  upon  them  and  eat  out  their  substance  ?  Sir, 
this  fervid  eloquence  of  the  British  speaker,  just  when  and 
where  it  was  uttered,  and  fit  to  remain  an  exercise  for  the 
schools,  is  not  a  little  out  of  place  when  it  was  brought 
thence  to  be  applied  here,  to  the  conduct  of  our  own 
country  toward  her  own  citizens.  From  America  to 
England  it  may  be  true ;  from  Americans  to  their  own 
Government  it  would  be  strange  language.  Let  us  leave 
it  to  be  recited  and  declaimed  by  our  boys  against  a 
foreign  nation ;  not  introduce  it  here,  to  recite  and  de 
claim  ourselves  against  our  own. 

But  I  come  to  the  point  of  the  alleged  contradiction. 
In  my  remarks  on  Wednesday,  I  contended  that  we  could 
not  give  away  gratuitously  all  the  public  lands ;  that  we 
held  them  in.  trust ;  that  the  Government  had  solemnly 
pledged  itself  to  dispose  of  them  as  a  common  fund  for 
the  common  benefit,  and  to  sell  and  settle  them  as  ita 
discretion  should  dictate.  Now,  sir,  "what  contradiction 
does  the  gentleman  find  to  this  sentiment  in  the  speech  of 
1825  ?  He  quotes  me  as  having  then  said,  that  we  ought 
not  to  hug  these  lands  as  a  very  great  treasure.  Very 

16 


182         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

well,  sir  ;  supposing  me  to  be  accurately  reported  in  that 
expression,  what  is  the  contradiction?  I  have  not  now 
said  that  we  should  hug  these  lands  as  a  favorite  source 
of  pecuniary  income.  No  such  thing.  It  is  not  my  view. 
What  I  have  said  and  what  I  do  say  is,  that  they  are  a 
common  fund — to  be  disposed  of  for  the  common  benefit- 
to  be  sold  at  low  prices,  for  the  accommodation  of  settlers, 
keeping  the  object  of  settling  the  lands  as  much  in  view 
as  that  of  raising  money  from  them.  This  I  say  now, 
and  this  I  have  always  said.  Is  this  hugging  them  as  a 
favorite  treasure  ?  Is  there  no  difference  between  hug 
ging  and  hoarding  this  fund,  on  the  one  hand,  as  a  great 
treasure,  and,  on  the  other,  of  disposing  of  it  at  low  prices, 
placing  the  proceeds  in  the  general  treasury  of  the  Union  ? 
My  opinion  is,  that  as  much  is  to  be  made  of  the  land  as 
fairly  and  reasonably  may  be,  selling  it  all  the  while  at 
such  rates  as  to  give  the  fullest  effect  to  settlement.  This 
is  not  giving  it  all  away  to  the  States,  as  the  gentleman 
would  propose ;  nor  is  it  hugging  the  fund  closely  and 
tenaciously  as  a  favorite  treasure ;  but  it  is,  in  my  judg 
ment,  a  just  and  wise  policy,  perfectly  according  with  all 
the  various  duties  which  rest  on  Government.  So  much 
for  my  contradiction.  And  what  is  it  ?  Where  is  the 
ground  of  the  gentleman's  triumph  ?  What  inconsistency, 
in  word  or  doctrine,  has  he  been  able  to  detect  ?  Sir,  if 
this  be  a  sample  of  that  discomfiture  with  which  the 
honorable  gentleman  threatened  me,  commend  me  to  the 
word  discomfiture  for  the  rest  of  my  life. 

But,  after  all,  this  is  not  the  point  of  the  debate ;  and  I 
must  bring  the  gentleman  back  to  that  which  is  the  point. 

The  real  question  between  me  and  him  is,  Where  has 
the  doctrine  been  advanced,  at  the  South  or  the  East,  that 
the  population  of  the  West  should  be  retarded,  or,  at  least, 
need  not  be  hastened,  on  account  of  its  effect  to  drain  off 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  183 

the  people  from  the  Atlantic  States  ?  Is  this  doctrine,  as 
has  been  alleged,  of  Eastern  origin  ?  That  is  the  question. 
Has  the  gentleman  found  any  thing  by  which  he  can  make 
good  his  accusation  ?  I  submit  to  the  Senate,  that  he  has 
entirely  failed  •  and  as  far  as  this  debate  has  shown,  the 
only  person  who  has  advanced  such  sentiments  is  a  gentle 
man  from  South  Carolina,  and  a  friend  to  the  honorable 
member  himself.  The  honorable  gentleman  has  given  no 
answer  to  this ;  there  is  none  which  can  be  given.  This 
simple  fact,  while  it  requires  no  comment  to  enforce  it, 
defies  all  argument  to  refute  it.  I  could  refer  to  the 
speeches  of  another  Southern  gentleman,  in  years  before, 
of  the  same  general  character,  and  to  the  same  effect,  as 
that  which  has  been  quoted ;  but  I  will  not  consume  the 
time  of  the  Senate  by  the  reading  of  them. 

So  then,  sir,  New  England  is  guiltless  of  the  policy  of 
retarding  Western  population,  and  of  all  envy  and  jealousy 
of  the  growth  of  the  new  States.  Whatever  there  be  of 
that  policy  in  the  country,  no  part  of  it  is  hers.  If  it  has 
a  local  habitation,  the  honorable  member  has  probably 
seen,  by  this  time,  where  he  is  to  look  for  it ;  and  if  it 
now  has  received  a  name,  he  himself  has  christened  it. 

We  approach,  at  length,  sir,  to  a  more  important  part 
of  the  honorable  gentleman's  observations.  Since  it  does 
not  accord  with  my  views  of  justice  and  policy  to  vote 
away  the  public  lands  altogether,  as  mere  matter  of 
gratuity,  I  am  asked,  by  the  honorable  gentleman,  on  what 
ground  it  is  that  I  consent  to  give  them  away  in  particular 
instances.  How,  he  inquires,  do  I  reconcile  with  these 
professed  sentiments  my  support  of  measures  appropriating 
portions  of  the  lands  to  particular  roads,  particular  canals, 
particular  rivers,  and  particular  institutions  of  education 
in  the  West?  This  leads,  sir,  to  the  real  and  wide  dif 
ference  in  political  opinions  between  the  honorable  gentle- 


184  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

man  and  myself.  On  my  part,  I  look  upon  all  these 
objects  as  connected  with  the  common  good, .fairly  em 
braced  in  its  objects  and  its  terms ;  he,  on  the  contrary, 
deems  them  all,  if  good  at  all,  only  local  good.  This  is 
our  difference.  The  interrogatory  which  he  proceeded  to 
put  at  once  explains  this  difference.  "  What  interest," 
asks  he,  "  has  South  Carolina  in  a  canal  in  Ohio  ?"  Sir, 
this  very  question  is  full  of  significance.  It  develops  the 
gentleman's  whole  political  system ;  and  its  answer  ex 
pounds  mine.  Here  we  differ  toto  coelo.  I  look  upon  a 
road  over  the  Alleghany,  a  canal  round  the  falls  of  the 
Ohio,  or  a  canal  or  railway  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Western  waters,  as  being  objects  large  and  extensive 
enough  to  be  fairly  said  to  be  for  the  common  benefit. 
The  gentleman  thinks  otherwise ;  and  this  is  the  key  to 
open  his  construction  of  the  powers  of  the  Government. 
He  may  well  ask,  upon  his  system,  What  interest  has 
South  Carolina  in  a  canal  in  Ohio  ?  On  that  system,  it  is 
true,  she  has  no  interest.  On  that  system,  Ohio  and  Caro 
lina  are  different  governments  and  different  countries,  con 
nected  here,  it  is  true,  by  some  slight  and  ill-defined  bond 
of  union,  but  in  all  main  respects  separate  and  diverse. 
On  that  system,  Carolina  has  no  more  interest  in  a  canal 
in  Ohio  than  in  Mexico.  The  gentleman,  therefore,  only 
follows  out  his  own  principles;  he  does  no  more  than 
arrive  at  the  natural  conclusions  of  his  own  doctrines ;  he 
only  announces  the  true  results  of  that  creed  which  he  has 
adopted  himself,  and  would  persuade  others  to  adopt,  when 
he  thus  declares  that  South  Carolina  has  no  interest  in  a 
public  work  in  Ohio.  Sir,  we  narrow-minded  people  of 
New  England  do  not  reason  thus.  Our  notion  of  things 
is  entirely  different.  We  look  upon  the  States,  not  as 
separated,  but  as  united.  We  love  to  dwell  on  that  Union, 
and  on  the  mutual  happiness  which  it  has  so  much  pro 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  185 

moted,  and  the  common  renown  which  it  has  so  greatly 
contributed  to  acquire.  In  our  contemplation,  Carolina 
and  Ohio  are  parts  of  the  same  country — States  united 
under  the  same  General  Government,  having  interests  com 
mon,  associated,  intermingled.  In  whatever  is  within  the 
proper  sphere  of  the  constitutional  power  of  this  Govern 
ment,  we  look  upon  the  States  as  one.  We  do  not  impose 
geographical  limits  to  our  patriotic  feeling  or  regard ;  we 
do  not  follow  rivers,  and  mountains,  and  lines  of  latitude, 
to  find  boundaries  beyond  which  public  improvements  do 
not  benefit  us.  We,  who  come  here  as  agents  and  repre 
sentatives  of  those  narrow-minded  and  selfish  men  of  New 
England,  consider  ourselves  as  bound  to  regard,  with  equal 
eye,  the  good  of  the  whole,  in  whatever  is  within  our  power 
of  legislation.  Sir,  if  a  railroad  or  a  canal,  beginning  in 
South  Carolina,  and  ending  in  South  Carolina,  appeared 
to  me  to  be  of  national  importance  and  national  magnitude, 
believing  as  I  do  that  the  power  of  Government  extends  to 
the  encouragement  of  works  of  that  description,  if  I  were 
to  stand  up  here  and  ask,  "  What  interest  has  Massachu 
setts  in  a  railroad  in  South  Carolina?''  I  should  not  be 
willing  to  face  my  constituents.  These  same  narrow- 
minded  men  would  tell  me  that  they  had  sent  me  to  act 
for  the  whole  country,  and  that  one  who  possessed  too 
little  comprehension,  either  of  intellect  or  feeling,  one 
who  was  not  large  enough,  in  mind  and  heart,  to  embrace 
the  whole,  was  not  fit  to  be  intrusted  with  the  interest  of 
any  part.  Sir,  I  do  not  desire  to  enlarge  the  powers  of 
the  Government  by  unjustifiable  construction,  nor  to  exer 
cise  any  not  within  a  fair  interpretation.  But  when  it  is 
believed  that  a  power  does  exist,  then  it  is,  in  my  judgment 
to  be  exercised  for  the  general  benefit  of  the  whole :  so  far 
as  respects  the  exercise  of  such  a  power,  the  States  are 
one.  It  was  the  very  object  of  the  Constitution  to  create 

16* 


186  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

unity  of  interests  to  the  extent  of  the  powers  of  the  Gene^ 
ral  Government.  In  war  and  peace  we  are  one ;  in  com 
merce,  one ;  because  the  authority  of  the  General  Govern 
ment  reaches  to  war  and  peace,  and  to  the  regulation  of 
commerce.  I  have  never  seen  any  more  difficulty  in  erect 
ing  lighthouses  on  the  lakes  than  on  the  ocean ;  in  improv 
ing  the  harbors  of  inland  seas  than  if  they  were  within 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide  ;  or  of  removing  obstructions 
in  the  vast  streams  of  the  West,  more  than  in  any  work  to 
facilitate  commerce  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  If  there  be 
power  for  one,  there  is  power  also  for  the  other ;  and  they 
are  all  and  equally  for  the  country. 

There  are  other  objects,  apparently  more  local,  or  the 
benefit  of  which  is  less  general,  toward  which,  nevertheless, 
I  have  concurred  with  others  to  give  aid  by  donations  of 
land.  It  is  proposed  to  construct  a  road  in  or  through 
one  of  the  new  States  in  which  this  Government  possesses 
large  quantities  of  land.  Have  the  United  States  no 
right,  as  a  great  and  uritaxed  proprietor — are  they  under 
no  obligation — to  contribute  to  an  object  thus  calculated  to 
promote  the  common  good  of  all  the  proprietors,  them 
selves  included  ?  And  even  with  respect  to  education, 
which  is  the  extreme  case,  let  the  question  be  considered. 
In  the  first  place,  as  we  have  seen,  it  was  made  matter  of 
compact  with  these  States  that  they  should  do  their  part 
to  promote  education.  In  the  next  place,  our  whole  sys 
tem  of  land-laws  proceeds  on  the  idea  that  education  is 
for  the  common  good;  because,  in  every  division,  a  certain 
portion  is  uniformly  reserved  and  appropriated  for  the  use 
of  schools.  And.  finally,  have  not  these  new  States 
singularly  strong  claims,  founded  on  the  ground  already 
stated,  that  the  Government  is  a  great  untaxed  proprietor 
in  the  ownership  of  the  soil  ?  It  is  a  consideration  of 
great  importance  that  probably  there  is  in  no  part  of  the 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNB.  187 

country,  or  of  the  world,  so  great  a  call  for  the  means  of 
education  as  in  those  new  States,  owing  to  the  vast  num 
ber  of  persons  within  those  ages  in  which  education  and 
instruction  are  usually  received,  if  received  at  all.  This 
is  the  natural  consequence  of  recency  of  settlement  and 
rapid  increase.  The  census  of  these  States  shows  how 
great  a  proportion  of  the  whole  population  occupies  the 
classes  between  infancy  and  manhood.  These  are  the 
wide  fields,  and  here  is  the  deep  and  quick  soil  for  the 
seeds  of  knowledge  and  virtue  ;  and  this  is  the  favored 
season,  the  spring-time  for  sowing  them.  Let  them  be 
disseminated  without  stint.  Let  them  be  scattered  with 
a  bountiful  broadcast.  Whatever  the  Government  can 
fairly  do  toward  these  objects,  in  my  opinion,  ought  to  be 
done. 

These,  sir,  are  the  grounds,  succinctly  stated,  on  which 
my  votes  for  grants  of  lands  for  particular  objects  rest, 
while  I  maintain,  at  the  same  time,  that  it  is  all  a  common 
fund,  for  the  common  benefit.  And  reasons  like  these,  I 
presume,  have  influenced  the  votes  of  other  gentlemen  from 
New  England.  Those  who  have  a  different  view  of  the 
powers  of  the  Government,  of  course,  come  to  different 
conclusions  on  these  as  on  other  questions.  I  observed, 
when  speaking  on  this  subject  before,  that  if  we  looked  to 
any  measure,  whether  for  a  road,  a  canal,  or  any  thing 
else  intended  for  the  improvement  of  the  West,  it  would 
be  found,  that  if  the  New  England  ayes  were  struck  out 
of  the  list  of  votes,  the  Southern  noes  would  always  have 
rejected  the  measure.  The  truth  of  this  has  not  been 
denied,  and  cannot  be  denied.  In  stating  this,  I  thought 
it  just  to  ascribe  it  to  the  constitutional  scruples  of  the 
South,  rather  than  to  any  other  less  favorable  or  less 
charitable  cause.  But  no  sooner  had  I  done  this,  than 
the  honorable  gentleman  asks  if  I  reproach  him  and  his 


188  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

friends  with  their  constitutional  scruples.  Sir,  I  reproach 
nobody.  I  stated  a  fact,  and  gave  the  most  respectful 
reason  for  it  that  occurred  to  me.  The  gentleman  cannot 
deny  the  fact ;  he  may,  if  he  choose,  disclaim  the  reason. 
It  is  not  long  since  I  had  occasion,  in  presenting  a  petition 
from  his  own  State,  to  account  for  its  being  intrusted  to 
my  hands  by  saying,  that  the  constitutional  opinions  of 
the  gentleman  and  his  worthy  colleague  prevented  them 
from  supporting  it.  Sir,  did  I  state  this  as  a  matter  of 
reproach  ?  Far  from  it.  Did  I  attempt  to  find  any  other 
cause  than  an  honest  one  for  these  scruples  ?  Sir,  I  did 
not.  It  did  not  become  me  to  doubt,  nor  to  insinuate  that 
the  gentleman  had  either  changed  his  sentiments,  or  that 
he  had  made  up  a  set  of  constitutional  opinions  accommo 
dated  to  any  particular  combination  of  political  occur 
rences.  Had  I  done  so,  I  should  have  felt  that,  while  I 
was  entitled  to  little  respect  in  thus  questioning  other 
people's  motives,  I  justified  the  whole  world  in  suspecting 
my  own. 

But  how  has  the  gentleman  returned  this  respect  for 
others'  opinions  ?  His  own  candor  and  justice,  how  have 
they  been  exhibited  toward  the  motives  of  others,  while 
he  has  been  at  so  much  pains  to  maintain — what  nobody 
has  disputed — the  purity  of  his  own  ?  Why,  sir,  he  has 
asked  ivhen,  and  how,  and  why  New  England  votes  were 
found  going  for  measures  favorable  to  the  West ;  he  hap 
demanded  to  be  informed  whether  all  this  did  not  begin 
in  1825,  and  while  the  election  of  President  was  still 
pending.  Sir,  to  these  questions  retort  would  be  justi 
fied  ;  and  it  is  both  cogent  and  at  hand.  Nevertheless,  I 
will  answer  the  inquiry  not  by  retort,  but  by  facts.  I  will 
tell  the  gentleman  tvhen,  and  how,  and  why  New  England 
has  supported  measures  favorable  to  the  West.  I  have 
already  referred  to  the  early  history  of  the  Government — 


KEPLY  TO   MR.  HAYNE.  189 

to  the  first  acquisition  of  the  lands — to  the  original  laws 
for  disposing  of  them  and  for  governing  the  territories 
where  they  lie,  and  have  shown  the  influence  of  New 
England  men  and  New  England  principles  in  all  these 
leading  measures.  I  should  not  be  pardoned  were  I  to 
go  over  that  ground  again.  Coming  to  more  recent  times, 
and  to  measures  of  a  less  general  character,  I  have  en 
deavored  to  prove  that  every  thing  of  this  kind  designed 
for  Western  improvement  has  depended  on  the  votes  of 
New  England.  All  this  is  true  beyond  the  power  of  con 
tradiction. 

And  now,  sir,  there  are  two  measures  to  which  I  will 
refer,  not  so  ancient  as  to  belong  to  the  early  history  of 
the  public  lands,  and  not  so  recent  as  to  be  on  this  side 
of  the  period  when  the  gentleman  charitably  imagines  a 
new  direction  may  have  been  given  to  New  England  feel 
ing  and  New  England  votes.  These  measures,  and  the 
New  England  votes  in  support  of  them,  may  be  taken  as 
samples  and  specimens  of  all  the,  rest.  In  1820,  (observe, 
Mr.  President,  in  1820,)  the  people  of  the  West  besought 
Congress  for  a  reduction  in  the  price  of  lands.  In  favor 
of  that  reduction,  New  England,  with  a  delegation  of 
forty  members  in  the  other  House,  gave  thirty-three  votes, 
and  one  only  against  it.  The  four  Southern  States,  with 
fifty  members,  gave  thirty-two  votes  for  it,  and  seven 
against  it.  Again,  in  1821,  (observe  again,  sir,  the  time,) 
the  law  passed  for  the  relief  of  the  purchasers  of  the 
public  lands.  This  was  a  measure  of  vital  importance  to 
the  West,  and  more  especially  to  the  Southwest.  It 
authorized  the  relinquishment  of  contracts  for  lands  which 
had  been  entered  into  at  high  prices,  and  a  reduction,  in 
other  cases,  of  not  less  than  37J-  per  cent,  on  the  pur 
chase-money.  Many  millions  of  dollars,  six  or  seven,  I 
believe,  at  least, — probably  much  more, — were  relinquished 


190  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

by  this  law.  On  this  bill  New  England,  with  her  forty 
members,  gave  more  affirmative  votes  than  the  four 
Southern  States  with  their  fifty-two  or  three  members. 
These  two  are  far  the  most  important  measures  respecting 
the  public  lands  which  have  been  adopted  within  the  last 
twenty  years.  They  took  place  in  1820  and  1821. 
That  is  the  time  when.  And  as  to  the  manner  how,  the 
gentleman  already  sees  that  it  was  by  voting,  in  solid 
column,  for  the  required  relief;  and  lastly,  as  to  the 
cause  why,  I  tell  the  gentleman  it  was  because  the  mem 
bers  from  New  England  thought  the  measures  just  and 
salutary ;  because  they  entertained  toward  the  West 
neither  envy,  hatred,  nor  malice ;  because  they  deemed  it 
becoming  them,  as  just  and  enlightened  public  men,  to 
meet  the  exigency  which  had  arisen  in  the  West  with  the 
appropriate  measure  of  relief;  because  they  felt  it  due  to 
their  own  characters,  and  the  characters  of  their  New 
England  predecessors  in  this  Government,  to  act  toward 
the  new  States  in  the  spirit  of  a  liberal,  patronizing, 
magnanimous  policy.  So  much,  sir,  for  the  cause  why ; 
and  I  hope  that  by  this  time,  sir,  the  honorable  gentle 
man  is  satisfied ;  if  not,  I  do  not  know  when,  or  how,  or 
why,  he  ever  will  be. 

Having  recurred  to  these  two  important  measures,  in 
answer  to  the  gentleman's  inquiries,  I  must  now  beg  per 
mission  to  go  back  to  a  period  still  something  earlier,  for 
the  purpose  still  further  of  showing  how  much,  or  rather 
how  little,  reason  there  is  for  the  gentleman's  insinuation 
that  political  hopes  or  fears,  or  party-associations,  were 
the  grounds  of  these  New  England  votes.  And  after  what 
has  been  said,  I  hope  it  may  be  forgiven  me  if  I  allude  to 
some  political  opinions  and  votes  of  my  own,  of  very  little 
public  importance,  certainly,  but  which,  from  the  time  at 


REPLY   TO   MR.  HAYNE.  191 

•which  they  were  given  and  expressed,  may  pass  for  good 
witnesses  on  this  occasion. 

This  Government,  Mr.  President,  from  its  origin  to  the 
peace  of  1815,  had  been  too  much  engrossed  with  various 
other  important  concerns  to  be  able  to  turn  its  thoughts 
inward  and  look  to  the  development  of  its  vast  internal 
resources.  In  the  early  part  of  President  Washington's 
administration,  it  was  fully  occupied  with  organizing  the 
Government,  providing  for  the  public  debt,  defending  the 
frontiers,  and  maintaining  domestic  peace.  Before  the 
termination  of  that  administration,  the  fires  of  the  French 
Revolution  blazed  forth,  as  from  a  new-opened  volcano, 
and  the  whole  breadth  of  the  ocean  did  not  entirely  secure 
us  from  its  effects.  The  smoke  and  the  cinders  reached 
us,  though  not  the  burning  lava.  Difficult  and  agitating 
questions,  embarrassing  to  Government,  and  dividing  public 
opinion,  sprung  out  of  the  new  state  of  our  foreign  rela 
tions,  and  were  succeeded  by  others,  and  yet  again  by 
others,  equally  embarrassing,  and  equally  exciting  division 
and  discord,  through  the  long  series  of  twenty  years,  till 
they  finally  issued  in  the  war  with  England.  Down  to  the 
close  of  that  war,  no  distinct,  marked,  and  deliberate  atten 
tion  had  been  given,  or  could  have  been  given,  to  the 
internal  condition  of  the  country,  its  capacities  of  improve 
ment,  or  the  constitutional  power  of  the  Government  in 
regard  to  objects  connected  with  such  improvement. 

The  peace,  Mr.  President,  brought  about  an  entirely  new 
and  a  most  interesting  state  of  things ;  it  opened  to  us 
other  prospects,  and  suggested  other  duties ;  we  ourselves 
were  changed,  and  the  whole  world  was  changed.  The 
pacification  of  Europe,  after  June,  1815,  assumed  a  firm 
and  permanent  aspect.  The  nations  evidently  manifested 
that  they  were  disposed  for  peace :  some  agitation  oT  the 
waves  might  be  expected,  even  after  the  storm  had  sub- 


192  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

sided;  but  the  tendency  was,  strongly  and  rapidly,  toward 
settled  repose. 

It  so  happened,  sir,  that  I  was  at  that  time  a  member 
of  Congress,  and,  like  others,  naturally  turned  my  atten 
tion  to  the  contemplation  of  the  newly-altered  condition 
of  the  country,  and  of  the  world.  It  appeared  plainly 
enough  to  me,  as  well  as  to  wiser  and  more  experienced 
men,  that  the  policy  of  the  Government  would  necessarily 
take  a  start  in  a  new  direction ;  because  new  directions 
would  necessarily  be  given  to  the  pursuits  and  occupations 
of  the  people.  We  had  pushed  our  commerce  far  and  fast, 
under  the  advantage  of  a  neutral  flag.  But  there  were 
now  no  longer  flags,  either  neutral  or  belligerent.  The 
harvest  of  neutrality  had  been  great,  but  we  had  gathered 
it  all.  With  the  peace  of  Europe,  it  was  obvious  there 
would  spring  up,  in  her  circle  of  nations,  a  revived  and 
invigorated  spirit  of  trade,  and  a  new  activity  in  all  the 
business  and  objects  of  civilized  life.  Hereafter,  our  com 
mercial  gains  were  to  be  earned  only  by  success  in  a  close 
and  intense  competition.  Other  nations  would  produce  for 
themselves,  and  carry  for  themselves,  and  manufacture  for 
themselves,  to  the  full  extent  of  their  abilities.  The  crops 
of  our  plains  would  no  longer  sustain  European  armies,  nor 
our  ships  longer  supply  those  whom  war  had  rendered 
unable  to  supply  themselves.  It  was  obvious,  that,  under 
these  circumstances,  the  country  would  begin  to  survey 
itself,  and  to  estimate  its  own  capacity  of  improvement. 
And  this  improvement,  how  was  it  to  be  accomplished,  and 
who  was  to  accomplish  it  ? 

We  were  ten  or  twelve  millions  of  people,  spread  over 
almost  half  a  world.  We  were  twenty-four  States,  some 
stretching  along  the  same  sea-board,  some  along  the  same 
line  of  inland  frontier,  and  others  on  opposite  banks  of  the 
same  vast  rivers.  Two  considerations  at  once  presented 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  193 

themselves,  in  looking  at  this  state  of  things,  with  great 
force.  One  was,  that  that  great  branch  of  improvement, 
which  consisted  in  furnishing  new -facilities  of  intercourse, 
necessarily  ran  into  different  States,  in  every  leading  in 
stance,  and  would  benefit  the  citizens  of  all  such  States. 
No  one  State,  therefore,  in  such  cases,  would  assume  the 
whole  expense,  nor  was  the  co-operation  of  several  States 
to  be  expected.  Take  the  instance  of  the  Delaware  Break 
water.  It  will  cost  several  millions  of  money.  Would 
Pennsylvania  alone  have  ever  constructed  it  ?  Certainly 
never,  while  this  Union  lasts,  because  it  is  not  for  her  sole 
benefit.  Would  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey,  and  Delaware 
have  united  to  accomplish  it,  at  their  joint  expense  ?  Cer 
tainly  not,  for  the  same  reason.  It  could  not  be  done, 
therefore,  but  by  the  General  Government.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  the  large  inland  undertakings,  except  that, 
in  them,  Government,  instead  of  bearing  the  whole  expense, 
co-operates  with  others  who  bear  a  part.  The  other  con 
sideration  is,  that  the  United  States  have  the  means.  They 
enjoy  the  revenues  derived  from  commerce,  and  the  States 
have  no  abundant  and  easy  sources  of  public  income.  The 
custom-houses  fill  the  general  treasury,  while  the  States 
have  scanty  resources,  except  by  resort  to  heavy  direct 
taxes. 

Under  this  view  of  things,  I  thought  it  necessary  to 
settle,  at  least  for  myself,  some  definite  notions,  with 
respect  to  the  powers  of  Government  in  regard  to  internal 
affairs.  It  may  not  savor  too  much  of  self-commendation 
to  remark,  that,  with  this  object,  I  considered  the  Con 
stitution,  its  judicial  construction,  its  contemporaneous 
exposition,  and  the  whole  history  of  the  legislation  of  Con 
gress  under  it ;  and  I  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  Govern 
ment  has  power  to  accomplish  sundry  objects,  or  aid  in 
their  accomplishment,  which  are  now  commonly  spoken  of 

17 


194  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

as  INTERNAL  IMPROVEMENTS.  That  conclusion,  sir,  may 
have  been  right,  or  it  may  have  been  wrong.  I  am  not 
about  to  argue  the  grounds  of  it  at  large.  I  say  only  that 
it  was  adopted,  and  acted  on,  even  so  early  as  in  1816. 
Yes,  Mr.  President,  I  made  up  my  opinion,  and  determined 
on  my  intended  course  of  political  conduct  on  these  sub 
jects,  in  the  14th  Congress,  in  1816.  And  now,  Mr.  Pre 
sident,  I  have  further  to  say,  that  I  made  up  these  opinions, 
and  entered  on  this  course  of  political  conduct,  Teucro  duce- 
Yes,  sir,  I  pursued,  in  all  this,  a  South  Carolina  track.  On 
the  doctrines  of  internal  improvement,  South  Carolina,  as 
she  was  then  represented  in  the  other  House,  set  forth,  in 
1816,  under  a  fresh  and  leading  breeze ;  and  I  was  among 
the  followers.  But  if  my  leader  sees  new  lights,  and  turns 
a  sharp  corner,  unless  I  see  new  lights  also,  I  keep  straight 
on  in  the  same  path.  I  repeat,  that  leading  gentlemen 
from  South  Carolina  were  first  and  foremost  in  behalf  of 
the  doctrines  of  internal  improvements,  when  those  doc 
trines  first  came  to  be  considered  and  acted  upon  in  Con 
gress.  The  debate  on  the  bank-question,  on  the  tariff  of 
1816,  and  on  the  direct  tax,  will  show  who  was  who,  and 
what  was  what,  at  that  time.  The  tariff  of  1816,  one  of 
the  plain  cases  of  oppression  and  usurpation,  from  which, 
if  the  Government  does  not  recede,  individual  States  may 
justly  secede  from  the  Government,  is,  sir,  in  truth,  a 
South  Carolina  tariff,  supported  by  South  Carolina  votes. 
But  for  those  votes,  it  could  not  have  passed  in  the  form  in 
which  it  did  pass ;  whereas,  if  it  had  depended  on  Mas 
sachusetts  votes,  it  would  have  been  lost.  Does  not  the 
honorable  gentleman  well  know  all  this  ?  There  are  cer 
tainly  those  who  do  full  well  know  it  all.  I  do  not  say 
this  to  reproach  South  Carolina ;  I  only  state  the  fact,  and 
I  think  it  will  appear  to  be  true,  that  among  the  earliest 
and  boldest  advocates  of  the  tariff,  as  a  measure  of  pro- 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  195 

tection,  and  on  the  express  ground  of  protection,  were 
leading  gentlemen  of  South  Carolina  in  Congress.  I  did 
not  then,  and  cannot  now,  understand  their  language  in 
any  other  sense.  While  this  tariff  of  1816  was  under  dis 
cussion  in  the  House  of  Representatives,  an  honorable 
gentleman  from  Georgia,  now  of  this  House,  (Mr.  Forsyth,) 
moved  to  reduce  the  proposed  duty  on  cotton.  He  failed 
by  four  votes,  South  Carolina  giving  three  votes  (enough  to 
have  turned  the  scale)  against  his  motion.  The  act,  sir, 
then  passed,  and  received  on  its  passage  the  support  of  a 
majority  of  the  Representatives  of  South  Carolina  present 
and  voting.  This  act  is  the  first  in  the  order  of  those  now 
denounced  as  plain  usurpations.  We  see  it  daily  in  the  list 
by  the  side  of  those  of  1824  and  1828,  as  a  case  of  manifest 
oppression,  justifying  disunion.  I  put  it  home  to  the 
honorable  member  from  South  Carolina,  that  his  own  State 
was  not  only  "art  and  part"  in  this  measure,  but  the  causa 
causans.  Without  her  aid,  this  seminal  principle  of  mis 
chief,  this  root  of  upas,  could  not  have  been  planted.  I 
have  already  said — and  it  is  true — that  this  act  proceeded 
on  the  ground  of  protection.  It  interfered  directly  with 
existing  interests  of  great  value  and  amount.  It  cut  up 
the  Calcutta  cotton-trade  by  the  roots.  But  it  passed, 
nevertheless,  and  it  passed  on  the  principle  of  protecting 
manufactures,  on  the  principle  against  free  trade,  on  the 
principle  opposed  to  that  which  lets  us  alone. 

Such,  Mr.  President,  were  the  opinions  of  important  and 
leading  gentlemen  of  South  Carolina,  on  the  subject  of 
internal  improvement,  in  1816.  I  went  out  of  Congress  the 
next  year,  and,  returning  again  in  1823,  thought  I  found 
South  Carolina  where  I  had  left  her.  I  really  supposed 
that  all  things  remained  as  they  were,  and  that  the  South 
Carolina  doctrine  of  internal  improvements  would  be  de 
fended  by  the  same  eloquent  voices  and  the  same  strong 


196         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

arms  as  formerly.  In  the  lapse  of  these  six  years,  it  is 
true,  political  associations  had  assumed  a  new  aspect  and 
new  divisions.  A  party  had  arisen  in  the  South,  hostile  to 
the  doctrine  of  internal  improvements,  and  had  vigorously 
attacked  that  doctrine.  Anti-consolidation  was  the  flag 
under  which  this  party  fought,  and  its  supporters  inveighed 
against  internal  improvements,  much  after  the  same  manner 
in  which  the  honorable  gentleman  has  now  inveighed 
against  them,  as  part  and  parcel  of  the  system  of  con 
solidation. 

Whether  this  party  arose  in  South  Carolina  herself,  or 
in  her  neighborhood,  is  more  than  I  know.  I  think  the 
latter.  However  that  may  have  been,  there  were  those 
found  in  South  Carolina  ready  to  make  war  upon  it,  and 
who  did  make  intrepid  war  upon  it.  Names  being  regarded 
as  things  in  such  controversies,  they  bestowed  on  the  anti- 
improvement  gentlemen  the  appellation  of  radicals.  Yes, 
sir,  the  name  of  radicals,  as  a  term  of  distinction,  appli 
cable  and  applied  to  those  who  denied  the  liberal  doctrines 
of  internal  improvements,  originated,  according  to  the  best 
of  my  recollection,  somewhere  between  North  Carolina  and 
Georgia.  Well,  sir,  those  mischievous  radicals  were  to  be 
put  down,  and  the  strong  arm  of  South  Carolina  was 
stretched  out  to  put  them  down.  About  this  time,  sir,  I 
returned  to  Congress.  The  battle  with  the  radicals  had 
been  fought,  and  our  South  Carolina  champions  of  the  doc 
trines  of  internal  improvement  had  nobly  maintained  their 
ground,  and  were  understood  to  have  achieved  a  victory. 
They  had  driven  back  the  enemy  with  discomfiture ;  a 
thing,  by-the-way,  sir,  which  is  not  always  performed  when 
it  is  promised.  A  gentleman,  to  whom  I  have  already 
referred  in  this  debate,  had  come  into  Congress,  during  rny 
absence  from  it,  from  South  Carolina,  and  had  brought 
with  him  a  high  reputation  for  ability.  He  came  from  a 


KEPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNB.  197 

school  with  which  we  had  been  acquainted,  et  noscitur  a 
sociis.  I  hold  in  my  hand,  sir,  a  printed  speech  of  this 
distinguished  gentleman,  (Mr.  McDuFFiE,)  "  ON  INTERNAL 
IMPROVEMENTS,"  delivered  about  the  period  to  which  I  now 
refer,  and  printed  with  a  few  introductory  remarks  upon 
consolidation ;  in  which,  sir,  I  think  he  quite  consolidated 
the  arguments  of  his  opponents,  the  radicals,  if  to  crush 
be  to  consolidate.  I  give  you  a  short  but  substantive 
quotation  from  these  remarks.  He  is  speaking  of  a  pam 
phlet,  then  recently  published,  entitled  "  Consolidation  ;" 
and  having  alluded  to  the  question  of  rechartering  the 
former  Bank  of  the  United  States,  he  says,  "  Moreover, 
in  the  early  history  of  parties,  and  when  Mr.  Crawford 
advocated  the  renewal  of  the  old  charter,  it  was  considered 
a  Federal  measure ;  which  internal  improvement  never 
was,  as  this  author  erroneously  states.  This  latter  measure 
originated  in  the  administration  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  with  the 
appropriation  for  the  Cumberland  road ;  and  was  first  pro 
posed,  as  a  system,  by  Mr.  Calhoun,  and  carried  through 
the  House  of  Representatives  by  a  large  majority  of  the 
Republicans,  including  almost  every  one  of  the  leading 
men  who  carried  us  through  the  late  war." 

So,  then,  internal  improvement  is  not  one  of  the  Federal 
heresies. 

One  paragraph  more,  sir. 

"  The  author  in  question,  not  content  with  denouncing 
as  Federalists  General  Jackson,  Mr.  Adams,  Mr.  Calhoun, 
and  the  majority  of  the  South  Carolina  delegation  in  Con* 
gress,  modestly  extends  the  denunciation  to  Mr.  Monroe 
and  the  whole  Republican  party.  Here  are  his  words : 
*  During  the  administration  of  Mr.  Monroe,  much  has 
passed  which  the  Republican  party  would  be  glad  to  ap 
prove,  if  they  could !  But  the  principal  feature,  and  that 
which  has  chiefly  elicited  these  observations,  is  the  renewal 

17* 


198  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

Of  the    SYSTEM    OF    INTERNAL    IMPROVEMENTS.'      Now,  tlllS 

measure  was  adopted  by  a  vote  of  115  to  86,  of  a  Repub 
lican  Congress,  and  sanctioned  by  a  Republican  President 
Who,  then,  is  this  author,  who  assumes  the  high  prerogative 
of  denouncing,  in  the  name  of  the  Republican  party,  the 
Republican  administration  of  the  country — a  denunciation 
including  within  its  sweep  Calhoun,  Lowndes  and  Cheves ; 
men  who  will  be  regarded  as  the  brightest  ornaments  of 
South  Carolina,  and  the  strongest  pillars  of  the  Republican 
party,  as  long  as  the  late  war  shall  be  remembered,  and 
talents  and  patriotism  shall  be  regarded  as  the  proper  ob 
jects  of  the  admiration  and  gratitude  of  a  free  people  ?" 

Such  are  the  opinions,  sir,  which  were  maintained  by 
South  Carolina  gentlemen  in  the  House  of  Representa 
tives  on  the  subject  of  internal  improvement,  when  I  took 
my  seat  there  as  a  member  from  Massachusetts,  in  1823. 
But  this  is  not  all ;  we  had  a  bill  before  us,  and  passed  it 
in  that  House,  entitled  "An  act  to  procure  the  necessary 
surveys,  plans  and  estimates  upon  the  subject  of  roads 
and  canals."  It  authorized  the  President  to  cause  surveys 
and  estimates  to  be  made  of  the  routes  of  such  roads  and 
canals  as  he  might  deem  of  national  importance  in  a  com 
mercial  or  military  point  of  view ',  or  for  the  transportation 
of  the  mail ;  and  appropriated  thirty  thousand  dollars  out 
of  the  treasury  to  defray  the  expense.  This  act,  though 
preliminary  in  its  nature,  covered  the  whole  ground.  It 
took  for  granted  the  complete  power  of  internal  improve 
ment,  as  far  as  any  of  its  advocates  had  ever  contended 
for  it.  Having  passed  the  other  House,  the  bill  came  up 
to  the  Senate,  and  was  here  considered  and  debated  in 
April,  1824.  The  honorable  member  from  South  Carolina 
was  a  member  of  the  Senate  at  that  time.  While  the  bill 
was  under  consideration  here,  a  motion  was  made  to  add 
the  following  proviso : 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  199 

"Provided,  That  nothing  herein  contained  shall  be 
construed  to  affirm  or  admit  a  power  in  Congress,  on  their 
own  authority,  to  make  roads  or  canals  within  any  of  the 
States  of  the  Union." 

The  yeas  and  nays  were  taken  on  this  proviso,  and  the 
honorable  member  voted  in  the  negative.  The  proviso 
failed. 

A  motion  was  then  made  to  add  this  provision, — viz. : 

"  Provided,  That  the  faith  of  the  United  States  is 
hereby  pledged,  that  no  money  shall  ever  be  expended 
for  roads  or  canals,  except  it  shall  be  among  the  several 
States,  and  in  the  same  proportion  as  direct  taxes  are  laid 
and  assessed  by  the  provisions  of  the  Constitution." 

The  honorable  member  voted  against  this  proviso  also, 
and  it  failed. 

The  bill  was  then  put  on  its  passage,  and  the  honorable 
member  voted  for  it,  and  it  passed,  and  became  a  law. 

Now,  it  strikes  me,  sir,  that  there  is  no  maintaining 
these  votes  but  upon  the  power  of  internal  improvement, 
in  its  broadest  sense.  In  truth,  these  bills  for  surveys 
and  estimates  have  always  been  considered  as  test-ques 
tions.  They  show  who  is  for  and  who  against  internal 
improvement.  This  law  itself  went  the  whole  length,  and 
assumed  the  full  and  complete  power.  The  gentleman's 
votes  sustained  that  power,  in  every '  form  in  which  the 
various  propositions  to  amend  presented  it.  He  went  for 
the  entire  and  unrestrained  authority,  without  consulting 
the  States,  and  without  agreeing  to  any  proportionate  dis 
tribution.  And  now,  suffer  me  to  remind  you,  Mi\  Pre 
sident,  that  it  is  this  very  same  power,  thus  sanctioned,  in 
every  form,  by  the  gentleman's  own  opinion,  that  is  so 
plain  and  manifest  a  usurpation  that  the  State  of  South 
Carolina  is  supposed  to  be  justified  in  refusing  submission 
to  any  laws  carrying  the  power  into  effect.  Truly,  sir,  is 


200  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

not  this  a  little  too  hard?  May  we  not  crave  some 
mercy,  under  favor  and  protection  of  the  gentleman's  own 
authority  ?  Admitting  that  a  road  or  a  canal  must  be 
written  down  flat  usurpation  as  ever  was  committed,  may 
we  find  no  mitigation  in  our  respect  for  his  place,  and  his 
vote,  as  one  that  knows  the  law  ? 

The  tariff  which  South  Carolina  had  an  efficient  hand 
in  establishing  in  1816,  and  this  asserted  power  of  internal 
improvement, — advanced  by  her  in  the  same  year,  and,  as 
we  have  now  seen,  approved  and  sanctioned  by  her  repre 
sentatives  in  1824, — these  two  measures  are  the  great 
grounds  on  which  she  is  now  thought  to  be  justified  in 
breaking  up  the  Union,  if  she  sees  fit  to  break  it  up. 

I  may  now  safely  say,  I  think,  that  we  have  had  the  au 
thority  of  leading  and  distinguished  gentlemen  from  South 
Carolina  in  support  of  the  doctrine  of  internal  improve 
ment.  I  repeat,  that,  up  to  1824,  I,  for  one,  followed  South 
Carolina  ;  but  when  that  star  in  its  ascension  veered  off 
in  an  unexpected  direction,  I  relied  on  its  light  no  longer. 
[Here  the  Yice-President  said,  Does  the  Chair  under 
stand  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  to  say  that  the 
person  now  occupying  the  chair  of  the  Senate  has  changed 
his  opinions  on  the  subject  of  internal  improvements  ?] 
From  nothing  ever  said  to  me,  sir,  have  I  had  reason  to 
know  of  any  change  in  the  opinions  of  the  person  filling 
the  chair  of  the  Senate.  If  such  change  has  taken  place, 
I  regret  it  ;  I  speak  generally  of  the  State  of  South 
Carolina.  Individuals  we  know  there  are  who  hold  opi 
nions  favorable  to  the  power.  An  application  for  its  ex 
ercise  in  behalf  of  a  public  work  in  South  Carolina  itself 
is  now  pending,  I  believe,  in  the  other  House,  presented  by 
members  from  that  State. 

I  have  thus,  sir,  perhaps  not  without  some  tediousness 
of  detail,  shown  that,  if  I  am  in  error  on  the  subject  of 


KEPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  201 

internal  improvements,  how  and  in  what  company  I  fell 
into  that  error.  If  I  am  wrong,  it  is  apparent  who  misled 
me. 

I  go  to  other  remarks  of  the  honorable  member, — and  1 
have  to  complain  of  an  entire  misapprehension  of  what  I 
said  on  the  subject  of  the  national  debt — though  I  can 
hardly  perceive  how  any  one  could  misunderstand  me. 
What  I  said  was,  not  that  I  wished  to  put  off  the  payment 
of  the  debt,  but,  on  the  contrary,  that  I  had  always  voted 
for  every  measure  for  its  reduction,  as  uniformly  as  the 
gentleman  himself.  He  seems  to  claim  the  exclusive  merit 
of  a  disposition  to  reduce  the  public  charge  ;  I  do  not 
allow  it  to  him.  As  a  debt,  I  was,  I  am,  for  paying  it ; 
because  it  is  a  charge  on  our  finances,  and  on  the  industry 
of  the  country.  But  I  observed  that  I  thought  I  per 
ceived  a  morbid  fervor  on  that  subject ;  an  excessive 
anxiety  to  pay  off  the  debt ;  not  so  much  because  it  is  a 
debt  simply,  as  because,  while  it  lasts,  it  furnishes  one 
objection  to  disunion.  It  is  a  tie  of  common  interest 
while  it  lasts.  I  did  not  impute  such  motive  to  the  honor 
able  member  himself;  but  that  there  is  such  a  feeling  in 
existence  I  have  not  a  particle  of  doubt.  The  most  I 
said  was,  that  if  one  effect  of  the  debt  was  to  strengthen 
our  Union,  that  effect  itself  was  not  regretted  by  me, 
however  much  others  might  regret  it.  The  gentleman 
has  not  seen  how  to  reply  to  this  otherwise  than  by  sup 
posing  me  to  have  advanced  the  doctrine  that  a  national 
debt  is  a  national  blessing.  Others,  I  must  hope,  will  find 
less  difficulty  in  understanding  me.  I  distinctly  and 
pointedly  cautioned  the  honorable  member  not  to  under 
stand  me  as  expressing  an  opinion  favorable  to  the  con 
tinuance  of  the  debt.  I  repeated  this  caution,  and  re 
peated  it  more  than  once — but  it  was  thrown  away. 

On  yet  another  point  I  was  still  more  unaccountably 


202         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

misunderstood.  The  gentleman  had  harangued  against 
"consolidation."  I  told  him,  in  reply,  that  there  was  one 
kind  of  consolidation  to  which  I  was  attached,  and  that 
was,  the  CONSOLIDATION  OF  OUR  UNION;  and  that  this 
was  precisely  that  consolidation  to  which  I  feared  others 
were  not  attached ;  that  such  consolidation  was  the  very 
end  of  the  Constitution — the  leading  object,  as  they  had 
informed  us  themselves,  which  its  framers  had  kept  in 
view.  I  turned  to  their  communication,  and  read  their 
very  words, — "  the  consolidation  of  the  Union," — and  ex 
pressed  my  devotion  to  this  sort  of  consolidation.  I  said 
in  terms  that  I  wished  not,  in  the  slightest  degree,  to  aug 
ment  the  powers  of  this  Government ;  that  my  object  was 
to  preserve,  not  to  enlarge ;  and  that,  by  consolidating  the 
Union,  I  understood  no  more  than  the  strengthening  of  the 
Union  and  perpetuating  it.  Having  been  thus  explicit, 
having  thus  read,  from  the  printed  book,  the  precise  words 
which  I  adopted,  as  expressing  my  own  sentiments,  it 
passes  comprehension,  how  any  man  could  understand  me 
as  contending  for  an  extension  of  the  powers  of  the  Govern 
ment,  or  for  consolidation  in  that  odious  sense  in  which  it 
means  an  accumulation,  in  the  Federal  Government,  of  the 
powers  properly  belonging  to  the  States. 

I  repeat,  sir,  that,  in  adopting  the  sentiments  of  the 
framers  of  the  Constitution,  I  read  their  language  audibly, 
and  word  for  word ;  and  I  pointed  out  the  distinction,  just 
as  fully  as  I  have  now  done  between  the  consolidation  of 
the  Union  and  that  other  obnoxious  consolidation  which  I 
disclaimed:  and  yet  the  honorable  gentleman  misunder 
stood  me.  The  gentleman  had  said  that  he  wished  for  no 
fixed  revenue — not  a  shilling.  If,  by  a  word,  he  could  con 
vert  the  Capitol  into  gold,  he  would  not  do  it.  Why  all 
this  fear  of  revenue  ?  Why,  sir,  because,  as  the  gentleman 
told  us,  it  tends  to  consolidation.  Now,  this  can  mean 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  203 

neither  more  nor  less  than  that  a  common  revenue  is  a 
common  interest,  and  that  all  common  interests  tend  to 
hold  the  union  of  the  States  together.  I  confess  I  like 
that  tendency ;  if  the  gentleman  dislikes  it,  he  is  right  in 
deprecating  a  shilling's  fixed  revenue.  So  much,  sir,  for 
consolidation. 

As  well  as  I  recollect  the  course  of  his  remarks,  the 
honorable  gentleman  next  recurred  to  the  subject  of  the 
tariff.  He  did  not  doubt  the  word  must  be  of  unpleasant 
sound  to  me,  and  proceeded,  with  an  effort  neither  new  nor 
attended  with  new  success,  to  involve  me  and  my  votes  in 
inconsistency  and  contradiction.  I  am  happy  the  honor 
able  gentleman  has  furnished  me  an  opportunity  of  a  timely 
remark  or  two  on  that  subject.  I  was  glad  he  approached 
it,  for  it  is  a  question  I  enter  upon  without  fear  from  any 
body.  The  strenuous  toil  of  the  gentleman  has  been  to 
raise  an  inconsistency  between  my  dissent  to  the  tariff  in 
1824  and  my  vote  in  1828.  It  is  labor  lost.  He  pays 
undeserved  compliment  to  my  speech  in  1824 ;  but  this  is 
to  raise  me  high,  that  my  fall,  as  he  would  have  it,  in  1828 
may  be  the  more  signal.  Sir,  there  was  no  fall  at  all. 
Between  the  ground  I  stood  on  in  1824  and  that  I  took  in 
1828,  there  was  not  only  no  precipice,  but  no  declivity.  It 
was  a  change  of  position,  to  meet  new  circumstances,  but 
on  the  same  level.  A  plain  tale  explains  the  whole  matter. 
In  1816,  I  had  not  acquiesced  in  the  tariff,  then  supported 
by  South  Carolina.  To  some  parts  of  it,  especially,  I  felt 
and  expressed  great  repugnance.  I  held  the  same  opinions 
in  1821,  at  the  meeting  in  Faneuil  Hall,  to  which  the  gen 
tleman  has  alluded.  I  said  then,  and  say  now,  that,  as  an 
original  question,  the  authority  of  Congress  to  exercise  the 
revenue  power,  with  direct  reference  to  the  protection  of 
manufactures,  is  a  questionable  authority,  far  more  ques 
tionable,  in  my  judgment,  than  the  power  of  internal  im 


204  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

provernents.  I  must  confess,  sir,  that,  in  one  respect,  some 
impression  has  been  made  on  my  opinions  lately.  Mr. 
Madison's  publication  has  put  the  power  in  a  very  strong 
light.  He  has  placed  it,  I  must  acknowledge,  upon  grounds 
of  construction  and  argument  which  seem  impregnable. 
But,  even  if  the  power  were  doubtful,  on  the  face  of  the 
Constitution  itself,  it  had  been  assumed  and  asserted  in  the 
first  revenue  law  ever  passed  under  that  same  Constitution ; 
and,  on  this  ground,  as  a  matter  settled  by  contemporaneous 
practice,  I  had  refrained  from  expressing  the  opinion  that 
the  tariff  laws  transcended  constitutional  limits,  as  the  gen 
tleman  supposes.  What  I  did  say  at  Faneuil  Hall,  as  far 
as  I  now  remember,  was,  that  this  was  originally  matter 
of  doubtful  construction.  The  gentleman  himself,  I  sup 
pose,  thinks  there  is  no  doubt  about  it,  and  that  the  laws 
are  plainly  against  the  Constitution.  Mr.  Madison's  let 
ters,  already  referred  to,  contain,  in  my  judgment,  by  far 
the  most  able  exposition  extant  of  this  part  of  the  Con 
stitution.  He  has  satisfied  me,  so  far  as  the  practice  of  the 
Government  had  left  it  an  open  question. 

With  a  great  majority  of  the  Representatives  of  Mas 
sachusetts,  I  voted  against  the  tariff  of  1824.  My  reasons 
were  then  given,  and  I  will  not  now  repeat  them.  But 
notwithstanding  our  dissent,  the  great  States  of  New  York, 
Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  and  Kentucky  went  for  the  bill,  in 
almost  unbroken  column,  and  it  passed.  Congress  and  the 
President  sanctioned  it,  and  it  became  the  law  of  the  land. 
What,  then,  were  we  to  do  ?  Our  only  option  was  either 
to  fall  in  with  this  settled  course  of  public  policy,  and  to 
accommodate  ourselves  to  it  as  well  as  we  could,  or  to 
embrace  the  South  Carolina  doctrine,  and  talk  of  nullifying 
the  statute  by  State  interference. 

This  last  alternative  did  not  suit  our  principles,  and,  of 
course,  we  adopted  the  former.  In  1827,  the  subject  came 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  205 

again  before  Congress,  on  a  proposition  favorable  to  wool 
and  woollens.  We  looked  upon  the  system  of  protection 
as  being  fixed  and  settled.  The  law  of  1824  remained. 
It  had  gone  into  full  operation,  and  in  regard  to  some 
objects  inten.ded  by  it,  perhaps  most  of  them,  had  produced 
all  its  expected  effects.  No  man  proposed  to  repeal  it — no 
man  attempted  to  renew  the  general  contest  on  its  principle. 
But,  owing  to  subsequent  and  unforeseen  occurrences,  the 
benefit  intended  by  it  to  wool  and  woollen  fabrics  had  not 
been  realized.  Events,  not  known  here  when  the  law 
passed,  had  taken  place,  which  defeated  its  object  in  that 
particular  respect.  A  measure  was  accordingly  brought 
forward  to  meet  this  precise  deficiency,  to  remedy  this  par 
ticular  defect.  It  was  limited  to  wool  and  woollens.  Was 
ever  any  thing  more  reasonable  ?  If  the  policy  of  the 
tariff-laws  had  become  established  in  principle  as  the  per 
manent  policy  of  the  Government,  should  they  not  be 
revised  and  amended,  and  made  equal,  like  other  laws,  as 
exigencies  should  arise,  or  justice  require  ?  Because  we 
had  doubted  about  adopting  the  system,  were  we  to  refuse 
to  cure  its  manifest  defects  after  it  became  adopted,  and 
when  no  one  attempted  its  repeal  ?  And  this,  sir,  is  the 
inconsistency  so  much  bruited.  I  had  voted  against  the 
tariff  of  1824— but  it  passed;  and  in  1827  and  1828,  I 
voted  to  amend  it  in  a  point  essential  to  the  interest  of  my 
constituents.  Where  is  the  inconsistency  ?  Could  I  do 
otherwise  ? 

Sir,  does  political  consistency  consist  in  always  giving 
negative  votes  ?  Does  it  require  of  a  public  man  to  refuse 
to  concur  in  amending  laws  because  they  passed  against 
his  consent?  Having  voted  against  the  tariff  originally, 
does  consistency  demand  that  I  should  do  all  in  my  power 
to  maintain  an  unequal  tariff,  burdensome  to  my  own  con 
stituents  in  many  respects, — favorable  in  none  ?  To  con- 
is 


206  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

•sistency  of  that  sort  I  lay  no  claim ;  and  there  is  another 
sort  to  which  I  lay  as  little — and  that  is,  a  kind  of  con 
sistency  by  which  persons  feel  themselves  as  much  bound 
to  oppose  a  proposition  after  it  has  become  the  law  of  the 
land  as  before. 

The  bill  of  1827,  limited,  as  I  have  said,  to  the  single 
object  in  which  the  tariff  of  1824  had  manifestly  failed  in 
its  effect,  passed  the  House  of  Representatives,  but  was 
lost  here.  We  had  then  the  act  of  1828.  I  need  not 
recur  to  the  history  of  a  measure  so  recent.  Its  enemies 
spiced  it  with  whatsoever  they  thought  would  render  it 
distasteful ;  its  friends  took  it,  drugged  as  it  was.  Vast 
amounts  of  property,  many  millions,  had  been  invested  in 
manufactures,  under  the  inducements  of  the  act  of  1824. 
Events  called  loudly,  as  I  thought,  for  further  regulations 
to  secure  the  degree  of  protection  intended  by  that  act. 
I  was  disposed  to  vote  for  such  regulations,  and  desired 
nothing  more ;  but  certainly  was  not  to  be  bantered  out 
of  my  purpose  by  a  threatened  augmentation  of  duty  on 
molasses,  put  into  the  bill  for  the  avowed  purpose  of 
making  it  obnoxious.  The  vote  may  have  been  right  or 
wrong,  wise  or  unwise ;  but  it  is  little  less  than  absurd  to 
allege  against  it  an  inconsistency  with  opposition  to  the 
former  law. 

Sir,  as  to  the  general  subject  of  the  tariff,  I  have  little 
now  to  say.  Another  opportunity  may  be  presented.  I 
remarked,  the  other  day,  that  this  policy  did  not  begin 
with  us  in  New  England ;  and  yet,  sir,  New  England  is 
charged  with  vehemence  as  being  favorable,  or  charged 
with  equal  vehemence  as  being  unfavorable,  to  the  tariff 
policy,  just  as  best  suits  the  time,  place,  and  occasion  for 
making  some  charge  against  her.  The  credulity  of  the 
public  has  been  put  to  its  extreme  capacity  of  false  im 
pression  relative  to  her  conduct  in  this  particular.  Through 


REPLY   TO    ME.  HAYNE.  207 

all  the  South,  during  the  late  contest,  it  was  New  England* 
policy,  and  a  New  England  administration,  that  was  afflict 
ing  the  country  with  a  tariff  policy  beyond  all  endurance, 
while  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alleghany,  even  the  act  of 
1828  itself — the  very  sublimated  essence  of  oppression, 
according  to  Southern  opinions — was  pronounced  to  be  one 
of  those  blessings  for  which  the  West  was  indebted  to  the 
"generous  South." 

With  large  investments  in  manufacturing  establishments, 
and  various  interests  connected  with  and  dependent  on 
them,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  New  England,  any  more 
than  other  portions  of  the  country,  will  now  consent  to  any 
measure  destructive  or  highly  dangerous.  The  duty  of 
the  Government,  at  the  present  moment,  would  seem  to 
be  to  preserve,  not  to  destroy ;  to  maintain  the  position 
which  it  has  assumed ;  and  for  one,  I  shall  feel  it  an  indis 
pensable  obligation  to  hold  it  steady,  as  far  as  in  my 
power,  to  that  degree  of  protection  which  it  has  under 
taken  to  bestow.  No  more  of  the  tariff. 

Professing  to  be  provoked  by  what  he  chose  to  consider 
a  charge  made  by  me  against  South  Carolina,  the  honor 
able  member,  Mr.  President,  has  taken  up  a  new  crusade 
against  New  England.  Leaving  altogether  the  subject  of 
the  public  lands,  in  which  his  success,  perhaps,  had  been 
neither  distinguished  nor  satisfactory,  and  letting  go,  also, 
of  the  topic  of  the  tariff,  he  sallied  forth  in  a  general 
assault  on  the  opinions,  politics,  and  parties  of  New  Eng 
land,  as  they  have  been  exhibited  in  the  last  thirty  years. 
This  is  natural.  The  "  narrow  policy"  of  the  public  lands 
had  proved  a  legal  settlement  in  South  Carolina,  and  was 
not  to  be  removed.  The  "accursed  policy"  of  the  tariff, 
also,  had  established  the  fact  of  its  birth  and  parentage 
in  the  same  State.  No  wonder,  therefore,  the  gentleman 
wished  to  carry  the  war,  as  he  expressed  it,  into  the 


208  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

enemy's  country.  Prudently  willing  to  quit  these  sub 
jects,  he  was  doubtless  desirous  of  fastening  others,  whict 
could  not  be  transferred  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line. 
The  politics  of  New  England  became  his  theme ;  and  it 
was  in  this  part  of  his  speech,  I  think,  that  he  menaced  me 
with  such  sore  discomfiture. 

Discomfiture  !  why,  sir,  when  he  attacks  any  thing  which 
I  maintain,  and  overthrows  it ;  when  he  turns  the  right  or 
left  of  any  position  which  I  take  up  ;  when  he  drives  me 
from  any  ground  I  choose  to  occupy,  he  may  then  talk  of 
discomfiture,  but  not  till  that  distant  day.  What  has  he 
done  ?  Has  he  maintained  his  own  charges  ?  Has  he 
proved  what  he  alleged  ?  Has  he  sustained  himself  in  his 
attack  on  the  Government,  and  on  the  history  of  the 
North,  in  the  matter  of  the  public  lands  ?  Has  he  dis 
proved  a  fact,  refuted  a  proposition,  weakened  an  argu 
ment,  maintained  by  me  ?  Has  he  come  within  beat  of 
drum  of  any  position  of  mine  ?  Oh,  no ;  but  he  has 
"  carried  the  war  into  the  enemy's  country"  !  Carried 
the  war  into  the  enemy's  country  !  Yes,  sir,  and  what 
sort  of  a  Avar  has  he  made  of  it  ?  Why,  sir,  he  has 
stretched  a  drag-net  over  the  whole  surface  of  perished 
pamphlets,  indiscreet  sermons,  frothy  paragraphs,  and 
fuming  popular  addresses ;  over  whatever  the  pulpit  in 
its  moments  of  alarm,  the  press  in  its  heats,  and  parties  in 
their  extravagance,  have  severally  thrown  off,  in  times  of 
general  excitement  and  violence.  He  has  thus  swept 
together  a  mass  of  such  things,  as,  but  that  they  are  now 
old,  the  public  health  would  have  required  him  rather  to 
leave  in  their  state  of  dispersion. 

For  a  good  long  hour  or  two,  we  had  the  unbroken 
pleasure  of  listening  to  the  honorable  member,  while  he 
recited,  with  his  usual  grace  and  spirit,  and  with  evident 
high  gusto,  speeches,  pamphlets,  addresses,  and  all  the  et 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  209 

ceteras  of  the  political  press,  such  as  warm  heads  produce 
in  warm  times,  and  such  as  it  would  be  "  discomfiture" 
indeed  for  any  one,  whose  taste  did  not  delight  in  that 
sort  of  reading,  to  be  obliged  to  peruse.  This  is  his  war. 
This  is  to  carry  the  war  into  the  enemy's  country.  It  is 
in  an  invasion  of  this  sort  that  he  flatters  himself  with 
the  expectation  of  gaining  laurels  fit  to  adorn  a  Senator's 
brow. 

Mr.  President,  I  shall  not,  it  will,  I  trust,  not  be  ex 
pected  that  I  should,  either  now  or  at  any  time,  separate 
this  farrago  into  parts,  and  answer  and  examine  its  com 
ponents.  I  shall  hardly  bestow  upon  it  all  a  general  re 
mark  or  two.  In  the  run  of  forty  years,  sir,  under  this 
Constitution,  we  have  experienced  sundry  successive 
violent  party  contests.  Party  arose,  indeed,  with  the 
Constitution  itself,  and  in  some  form  or  other  has  attended 
through  the  greater  part  of  its  history. 

Whether  any  other  Constitution  than  the  old  articles 
of  confederation  was  desirable  was,  itself,  a  question  on 
which  parties  formed ;  if  a  new  Constitution  was  framed, 
what  powers  should  be  given  to  it  was  another  question ; 
and  when  it  had  been  formed,  what  was,  in  fact,  the  just 
extent  of  the  powers  actually  conferred,  was  a  third. 
Parties,  as  we  know,  existed  under  the  first  administra 
tion,  as  distinctly  marked  as  those  which  manifested  them 
selves  at  any  subsequent  period. 

The  contest  immediately  preceding  the  political  change 
in  1801,  and  that,  again,  which  existed  at  the  commence 
ment  of  the  late  war,  are  other  instances  of  party  excite 
ment  of  something  more  than  usual  strength  and  intensity. 
In  all  these  conflicts  there  was,  no  doubt,  much  of  violence 
on  both  and  all  sides.  It  would  be  impossible,  if  one  had  a 
fancy  for  such  employment,  to  adjust  the  relative  quantum 
of  violence  between  these  two  contending  parties.  There 

is* 


210         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

was  enough  in  each,  as  must  always  be  expected  in  popular 
governments.  With  a  great  deal  of  proper  and  decorous 
discussion  there  was  mingled  a  great  deal,  also,  of  decla 
mation,  virulence,  crimination,  and  abuse. 

In  regard  to  any  party,  probably,  at  one  of  the  leading 
epochs  in  the  history  of  parties,  enough  may  be  found  to 
make  out  another  equally  inflamed  exhibition  as  that  with 
which  the  honorable  member  has  edified  us.  For  myself, 
sir,  I  shall  not  rake  among  the  rubbish  of  by-gone  times 
to  see  what  I  can  find,  or  whether  I  cannot  find  something 
by  which  I  can  fix  a  blot  on  the  escutcheon  of  any  State, 
any  party,  or  any  part  of  the  country.  General  Washing 
ton's  administration  was  steadily  and  zealously  maintained, 
as  we  all  know,  by  New  England.  It  was  violently  op 
posed  elsewhere.  We  know  in  what  quarter  he  had  the 
most  earnest,  constant,  and  persevering  support,  in  all  his 
great  and  leading  measures.  We  know  where  his  private 
and  personal  character  were  held  in  the  highest  degree  of 
attachment  and  veneration ;  and  we  know,  too,  where  his 
measures  were  opposed,  his  services  slighted,  and  his  cha 
racter  vilified. 

We  know,  or  we  might  know,  if  we  turn  to  the  journals, 
who  expressed  respect,  gratitude,  and  regret,  when  he 
retired  from  the  chief-magistracy ;  and  who  refused  to 
express  either  respect,  gratitude,  or  regret.  I  shall  not 
open  those  journals.  Publications  more  abusive  or  scurri 
lous  never  saw  the  light  than  were  sent  forth  against 
Washington,  and  all  his  leading  measures,  from  presses 
south  of  New  England ;  but  I  shall  not  look  them  up. 
I  employ  no  scavengers — no  one  is  in  attendance  on  me, 
tendering  such  means  of  retaliation  ;  and  if  there  were, 
with  an  ass's  load  of  them,  with  a  bulk  as  huge  as  that 
which  the  gentleman  himself  has  produced,  I  would  not 
touch  one  of  them.  I  see  enough  of  the  violence  of  our 


REPLY   TO    MB.  HAYNE.  211 

own  times  to  be  no  way  anxious  to  rescue  from  forgetful- 
ness  the  extravagances  of  times  past.  Besides,  what  is 
all  this  to  the  present  purpose  ?  It  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  public  lands,  in  regard  to  which  the  attack  was  begun ; 
and  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  those  sentiments  and 
opinions,  which  I  have  thought  tend  to  disunion,  and  all 
of  which  the  honorable  member  seems  to  have  adopted 
himself,  and  undertaken  to  defend.  New  England  has, 
at  times, — so  argues  the  gentleman, — held  opinions  as 
dangerous  as  those  which  he  now  holds.  Be  it  so.  But 
why,  therefore,  does  he  abuse  New  England  ?  If  he  finds 
himself  countenanced  by  acts  of  hers,  how  is  it  that, 
while  he  relies  on  these  acts,  he  covers,  or  seeks  to  cover, 
their  authors  with  reproach? 

But,  sir,  if,  in  the  course  of  forty  years,  there  have 
been  undue  effervescences  of  party  in  New  England,  has 
the  same  thing  happened  nowhere  else  ?  Party  animosity 
and  party  outrage,  not  in  New  England,  but  elsewhere, 
denounced  President  Washington,  not  only  as  a  Federalist, 
but  as  a  tory,  a  British  agent,  a  man  who,  in  his  high  office, 
sanctioned  corruption.  But  does  the  honorable  member 
suppose  that,  if  I  had  a  tender  here,  who  should  put  such 
an  effusion  of  wickedness  and  folly  in  my  hand,  that  I 
would  stand  up  and  read  it  against  the  South  ?  Parties 
ran  into  great  heats,  again,  in  1799  and  1800.  What  was 
said,  sir,  or  rather  what  was  not  said,  in  those  years, 
against  John  Adams,  one  of  the  signers  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence,  and  its  admitted  ablest  defender  on  the 
floor  of  Congress  ?  If  the  gentleman  wants  to  increase 
his  stores  of  party  abuse  and  frothy  violence,  if  he  has  a 
determined  proclivity  to  such  pursuits,  there  are  treasures 
of  that  sort  south  of  the  Potomac,  much  to  his  taste,  yet 
untouched.  I  shall  not  touch  them. 

The  parties  which  divided  the  country,  at  the  commence- 


212  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

ment  of  the  late  war,  were  violent.  But,  then,  there  was 
violence  on  both  sides,  and  violence  in  every  State. 
Minorities  and  majorities  were  equally  violent.  There 
was  no  more  violence  against  the  war  in  New  England 
than  in  other  States  ;  nor  any  more  appearance  of  violence, 
except  that,  owing  to  a  dense  population,  greater  facility 
for  assembling,  and  more  presses,  there  may  have  been 
more,  in  quantity,  spoken  and  printed  there  than  in  some 
other  places.  In  the  article  of  sermons,  too,  New  England 
is  somewhat  more  abundant  than  South  Carolina ;  and  for 
that  reason,  the  chance  of  finding  here  and  there  an  ex 
ceptionable  one  may  be  greater.  I  hope,  too,  there  are 
more  good  ones.  Opposition  may  have  been  more  for 
midable  in  New  England,  as  it  embraced  a  larger  portion 
of  the  whole  population ;  but  it  was  no  more  unrestrained 
in  its  principle,  or  violent  in  manner.  The  minorities 
dealt  quite  as  harshly  with  their  own  State  Governments 
as  the  majorities  dealt  with  the  administration  here. 
There  were  presses  on  both  sides,  popular  meetings  on 
both  sides,  ay,  and  pulpits  on  both  sides,  also.  The 
gentleman's  purveyors  have  only  catered  for  him  among 
the  productions  on  one  side.  I  certainly  shall  not  supply 
the  deficiency  by  furnishing  samples  of  the  other.  I  leave 
to  him,  and  to  them,  the  whole  concern. 

It  is  enough  for  me  to  say,  that  if,  in  any  part  of  this 
their  grateful  occupation — if  in  all  their  researches — they 
find  any  thing  in  the  history  of  Massachusetts,  or  New 
England,  or  in  the  proceedings  of  any  legislative  or  other 
public  body,  disloyal  to  the  Union,  speaking  slightly  of 
its  value,  proposing  to  break  it  up,  or  recommending  non- 
intercourse  with  neighboring  States,  on  account  of  dif 
ference  of  political  opinion,  then,  sir,  I  give  them  all  up 
to  the  honorable  gentleman's  unrestrained  rebuke ;  expect- 


REPLY   TO   ME.  HAYNE.  213 

ing,  however,  that  he  will  extend  his  bufferings,  in  like 
manner,  to  all  similar  proceedings,  wherever  else  found. 

The  gentleman,  sir,  has  spoken  at  large  of  former 
parties,  now  no  longer  in  being,  by  their  received  appella 
tions,  and  has  undertaken  to  instruct  us,  not  only  in  the 
knowledge  of  their  principles,  but  of  their  respective 
pedigrees  also.  He  has  ascended  to  their  origin,  and  run 
out  their  genealogies.  With  most  exemplary  modesty,  he 
speaks  of  the  party  to  which  he  professes  to  have  belonged 
himself,  as  the  true,  pure,  the  only  honest,  patriotic  party, 
derived  by  regular  descent,  from  father  to  son,  from  the 
time  of  the  virtuous  Romans!  Spreading  before  us  the 
family-tree  of  political  parties,  he  takes  especial  care  to 
show  himself  snugly  perched  on  a  popular  bough !  He 
is  wakeful  to  the  expediency  of  adopting  such  rules  of 
descent,  for  political  parties,  as  shall  bring  him  in,  in 
exclusion  of  others,  as  an  heir  to  the  inheritance  of  all 
public  virtue,  and  all  true  political  principles.  His  doxy 
is  always  orthodoxy.  Heterodoxy  is  confined  to  his  op 
ponents.  He  spoke,  sir,  of  the  Federalists,  and  I  thought 
I  saw  some  eyes  begin  to  open  and  stare  a  little,  when  he 
ventured  on  that  ground.  I  expected  he  would  draw  his 
sketches  rather  slightly,  when  he  looked  on  the  circle 
round  him,  and  especially  if  he  should  cast  his  thoughts 
to  the  high  places  out  of  the  Senate.  Nevertheless,  he 
went  back  to  Rome,  ad  annum  urbe  condita,  and  found 
the  fathers  of  the  Federalist  in  the  primeval  aristocrats  of 
that  renowned  empire  !  He  traced  the  flow  of  Federal 
blood  down  through  successive  ages  and  centuries,  till  he 
got  into  the  veins  of  the  American  tories,  (of  whom,  by- 
the-way,  there  were  twenty  in  the  Carolinas  for  one  in 
Massachusetts.)  From  the  tories,  he  followed  it  to  the 
Federalists ;  and  as  the  Federal  party  was  broken  up,  and 
there  was  no  possibility  of  transmitting  it  farther  on  this 


214  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

side  of  the  Atlantic,  he  seems  to  have  discovered  that  it 
has  gone  off,  collaterally,  though  against  all  the  canons 
of  descent,  into  the  ultras  of  France,  and  finally  became 
extinguished,  like  exploded  gas,  among  the  adherents  of 
Don  Miguel. 

This,  sir,  is  an  abstract  of  the  gentleman's  history  of 
Federalism.  I  am  not  about  to  controvert  it.  It  is  not, 
at  present,  worth  the  pains  of  refutation,  because,  sir,  if  at 
this  day  one  feels  the  sin  of  Federalism  lying  heavily  on 
his  conscience,  he  can  easily  obtain  remission.  He  may 
even  have  an  indulgence,  if  he  is  desirous  of  repeating  the 
transgression.  It  is  an  affair  of  no  difficulty  to  get  into 
this  same  right  line  of  patriotic  descent.  A  man,  now-a- 
days,  is  at  liberty  to  choose  his  political  parentage.  He 
may  elect  his  own  father.  Federalist  or  not,  he  may,  if  he 
choose,  claim  to  belong  to  the  favored  stock,  and  his  claim 
will  be  allowed.  He  may  carry  back  his  pretensions  just 
as  far  as  the  honorable  gentleman  himself;  nay,  he  may 
make  himself  out  the  honorable  gentleman's  cousin,  and 
prove  satisfactorily  that  he  is  descended  from  the  same 
political  great-grandfather.  All  this  is  allowable.  We  all 
know  a  process,  sir,  by  which  the  whole  Essex  Junto  could, 
in  one  hour,  be  all  washed  white  from  their  ancient  Fede 
ralism,  and  come  out,  every  one  of  them,  an  original 
Democrat,  dyed  in  the  wool !  Some  of  them  have  actually 
undergone  the  operation,  and  they  say  it  is  quite  easy. 
The  only  inconvenience  it  occasions,  as  they  tell  us,  is  a 
slight  tendency  of  the  blood  to  the  face,  a  soft  suffusion, 
which,  however,  is  very  transient,  since  nothing  is  said 
calculated  to  deepen  the  red  on  the  cheek,  but  a  prudent 
silence  observed  in  regard  to  all  the  past.  Indeed,  sir, 
some  smiles  of  approbation  have  been  bestowed,  and  some 
crumbs  of  comfort  have  fallen,  not  a  thousand  miles  from 
the  door  of  the  Hartford  Convention  itself.  And  if  the 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNB.  215 

author  of  the  ordinance  of  1787  possessed  the  other  re 
quisite  qualifications,  there  is  no  knowing,  notwithstanding 
his  Federalism,  to  what  heights  of  favor  he  might  not  yet 
attain. 

Mr.  President,  in  carrying  his  warfare,  such  as  it  was, 
into  New  England,  the  honorable  gentleman  all  along  pro 
fesses  to  be  acting  on  the  defensive.  He  desires  to  con 
sider  me  as  having  assailed  South  Carolina,  and  insists 
that  he  comes  forth  only  as  her  champion,  and  in  her  de 
fence.  Sir,  I  do  not  admit  that  I  made  any  attack  what 
ever  on  South  Carolina.  Nothing  like  it.  The  honorable 
member,  in  his  first  speech,  expressed  opinions,  in  regard 
to  revenue,  and  some  other  topics,  which  I  heard  both  with 
pain  and  surprise.  I  told  the  gentleman  that  I  was  aware 
that  such  sentiments  were  entertained  OUT  of  the  Govern 
ment,  but  had  not  expected  to  find  them  advanced  in  it ; 
that  I  knew  there  were  persons  in  the  South  who  speak  of 
our  Union  with  indifference,  or  doubt,  taking  pains  to 
magnify  its  evils,  and  to  say  nothing  of  its  benefits ;  that 
the  honorable  member  himself,  I  was  sure,  could  never  be 
one  of  these;  and  I  regretted  the  expression  of  such  opi 
nions  as  he  had  avowed,  because  I  thought  their  obvious 
tendency  was  to  encourage  feelings  of  disrespect  to  the 
Union,  and  to  weaken  its  connection.  This,  sir,  is  the  sum 
and  substance  of  all  I  said  on  the  subject.  And  this  con 
stitutes  the  attack  which  called  on  the  chivalry  of  the  gen 
tleman,  in  his  opinion,  to  harry  us  with  such  a  forage 
among  the  party  pamphlets  and  party  proceedings  of  Mas 
sachusetts.  If  he  means  that  I  spoke  with  dissatisfaction 
or  disrespect  of  the  ebullitions  of  individuals  in  South 
Carolina,  it  is  true.  But  if  he  means  that  I  had  assailed 
the  character  of  the  State,  her  honor,  or  patriotism,  that  I 
had  reflected  on  her  history  or  her  conduct,  he  had  not  the 
slightest  ground  for  any  such  assumption.  I  did  not  even 


216  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

refer,  I  think,  in  my  observations,  to  any  collection  of 
individuals.  I  said  nothing  of  the  recent  Conventions.  I 
spoke  in  the  most  guarded  and  careful  manner,  and  only 
expressed  my  regret  for  the  publication  of  opinions  which 
I  presumed  the  honorable  member  disapproved  as  much  as 
myself.  In  this,  it  seems,  I  was  mistaken. 

I  do  not  remember  that  the  gentleman  has  disclaimed 
any  sentiment,  or  any  opinion,  of  a  supposed  anti-Union 
tendency,  which  on  all  or  any  of  the  recent  occasions  has 
been  expressed.  The  whole  drift  of  his  speech  has  been 
rather  to  prove,  that,  in  divers  times  and  manners,  senti 
ments  equally  liable  to  objection  have  been  promulgated  in 
New  England.  A.nd  one  would  suppose  that  his  object,  in 
this  reference  to  Massachusetts,  was  to  find  a  precedent  to 
justify  proceedings  in  the  South,  were  it  not  for  the  re 
proach  and  contumely  with  which  he  labors,  all  along,  to 
load  his  precedents. 

By  way  of  defending  South  Carolina  from  what  he 
chooses  to  think  an  attack  on  her,  he  first  quotes  the  ex 
ample  of  Massachusetts,  and  then  denounces  that  example, 
in  good  set  terms.  This  twofold  purpose,  not  very  con 
sistent  with  itself,  one  would  think,  was  exhibited  more 
than  once  in  the  course  of  his  speech.  He  referred,  for 
instance,  to  the  Hartford  Convention.  Did  he  do  this  for 
authority,  or  for  a  topic  of  reproach?  Apparently  for 
both ;  for  he  told  us  that  he  should  find  no  fault  with  the 
mere  fact  of  holding  such  a  convention,  and  considering 
and  discussing  such  questions  as  he  supposes  were  then 
and  there  discussed ;  but  what  rendered  it  obnoxious  was 
the  time  it  was  holden,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  country 
Chen  existing.  We  were  in  a  war,  he  said,  and  the  country 
needed  all  our  aid ;  the  hand  of  Government  required  to 
be  strengthened,  not  weakened ;  and  patriotism  should 
have  postponed  such  proceedings  to  another  day.  The 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  21? 

thing  itself,  then,  is  a  precedent ;  the  time  and  manner  of 
it,  only,  subject  of  censure. 

Now,  sir,  I  go  much  further,  on  this  point,  than  the 
honorable  member.  Supposing,  as  the  gentleman  seems 
to,  that  the  Hartford  Convention  assembled  for  any  such 
purpose  as  breaking  up  the  Union,  because  they  thought 
unconstitutional  laws  had  been  passed,  or  to  concert  on 
that  subject,  or  to  calculate  the  value  of  the  Union ;  sup 
posing  this  to  be  their  purpose,  or  any  part  of  it,  then  I 
say  the  meeting  itself  was  disloyal,  and  obnoxious  to  cen 
sure,  whether  held  in  time  of  peace,  or  time  of  war,  or 
under  whatever  circumstances.  The  material  matter  is  the 
object.  Is  dissolution  the  object  ?  If  it  be,  external  cir 
cumstances  may  make  it  a  more  or  less  aggravated  case, 
but  cannot  affect  the  principle.  I  do  not  hold,  therefore, 
that  the  Hartford  Convention  was  pardonable,  even  to  the 
extent  of  the  gentleman's  admission,  if  its  objects  were 
really  such  as  have  been  imputed  to  it.  Sir,  there  never 
was  a  time,  under  any  degree  of  excitement,  in  which  the 
Hartford  Convention,  or  any  other  convention,  could  main 
tain  itself  one  moment  in  New  England,  if  assembled  for 
any  such  purpose  as  the  gentleman  says  would  have  been 
an  allowable  purpose.  To  hold  conventions  to  decide 
questions  of  constitutional  law  ! — to  try  the  binding  valid 
ity  of  statutes,  by  votes  in  a  convention  !  Sir,  the  Hart 
ford  Convention,  I  presume,  would  not  desire  that  the 
honorable  gentleman  should  be  their  defender  or  advocate, 
if  he  puts  their  case  upon  such  untenable  and  extravagant 
grounds. 

Then,  sir,  the  gentleman  has  no  fault  to  find  with  these 
recently-promulgated  South  Carolina  opinions.  And, 
certainly,  he  need  have  none ;  for  his  own  sentiments,  as 
now  advanced,  and  advanced  on  reflection,  as  far  as  I  have 
been  able  to  comprehend  them,  go  the  full  length  of  all 

19 


218         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

these  opinions.  I  propose,  sir,  to  say  something  on  these, 
and  to  consider  how  far  they  are  just  and  constitutional. 
Before  doing  that,  however,  let  me  observe,  that  the 
eulogium  pronounced  on  the  character  of  the  State  of 
South  Carolina,  by  the  honorable  gentleman,  for  her  Revo 
lutionary  and  other  merits,  meets  my  hearty  concurrence, 
I  shall  not  acknowledge  that  the  honorable  member  goes 
before  me  in  regard  for  whatever  of  distinguished  talent 
or  distinguished  character  South  Carolina  has  produced. 
I  claim  part  of  the  honor,  I  partake  in  the  pride,  of  hei 
great  names.  I  claim  them  for  countrymen,  one  and  all. 
The  Laurenses,  the  Rutledges,  the  Pinckneys,  the  Sump- 
ters,  the  Marions — Americans  all — whose  fame  is  no  more 
to  be  hemmed  in  by  State  lines  than  their  talents  and 
patriotism  were  capable  of  being  circumscribed  within 
the  same  narrow  limits.  In  their  day  and  generation, 
they  served  and  honored  the  country,  and  the  whole 
country;  and  their  renown  is  of  the  treasures  of  the  whole 
country.  Him  whose  honored  name  the  gentleman  himself 
bears — does  he  suppose  me  less  capable  of  gratitude  for 
his  patriotism,  or  sympathy  for  his  sufferings,  than  if  his 
eyes  had  first  opened  upon  the  light  in  Massachusetts 
instead  of  South  Carolina  ?  Sir,  does  he  suppose  it  is  in 
his  power  to  exhibit  a  Carolina  name  so  bright  as  to  pro 
duce  envy  in  my  bosom  ?  No,  sir,  increased  gratification 
and  delight,  rather. 

Sir,  I  thank  God  that  if  I  am  gifted  with  little  of  the 
spirit  which  is  said  to  be  able  to  raise  mortals  to  the  skies, 
I  have  yet  none,  as  I  trust,  of  that  other  spirit  which  would 
drag  angels  down.  When  I  shall  be  found,  sir,  in  my 
place  here  in  the  Senate,  or  elsewhere,  to  sneer  at  public 
merit,  because  it  happened  to  spring  up  beyond  the  little 
limits  of  my  own  State,  or  neighborhood ;  when  I  refuse, 
for  any  such  cause,  or  for  any  cause,  the  homage  due  tc 


REPLY    TO   MR.  HAYNE.  219 

American  talent,  to  elevated  patriotism,  to  sincere  devotion 
to  liberty  and  the  country ;  or  if  I  see  an  uncommon  en 
dowment  of  Heaven,  if  I  see  extraordinary  capacity  an(* 
virtue,  in  any  son  of  the  South,  and  if,  moved  by  local 
prejudice,  or  gangrened  by  State  jealousy,  I  get  up  here 
to  abate  the  tithe  of  a  hair  from  his  just  character  and 
just  fame, — may  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth !  Sir,  let  me  recur  to  pleasing  recollections ;  let 
me  indulge  in  refreshing  remembrance  of  the  past ;  let  me 
remind  you  that  in  early  times  no  States  cherished  greater 
harmony,  both  of  principle  and  feeling,  than  Massachu 
setts  and  South  Carolina.  Would  to  God  that  harmony 
might  again  return  !  Shoulder  to  shoulder  they  went 
through  the  Revolution ;  hand  in  hand  they  stood  round 
the  administration  of  Washington,  and  felt  his  own  great 
arm  lean  on  them  for  support.  Unkind  feeling,  if  it  exist, 
alienation  and  distrust,  are  the  growth,  unnatural  to  such 
soils,  of  false  principles  since  sown.  They  are  weeds, 
the  seeds  of  which  that  same  great  arm  never  scattered. 

Mr.  President,  I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium  upon 
Massachusetts — she  needs  none.  There  she  is — behold 
ier,  and  judge  for  yourselves.  There  is  her  history — the 
world  knows  it  by  heart.  The  past,  at  least,  is  secure. 
There  is  Boston,  and  Concord,  and  Lexington-,  and  Bunker 
Hill ;  and  there  they  will  remain  forever.  The  bones  of 
her  sons,  fallen  in  the  great  struggle  for  Independence, 
now  lie  mingled  with  the  soil  of  every  State  from  New 
England  to  Georgia;  and  there  they  will  lie  forever. 
And,  sir,  where  American  liberty  raised  its  first  voice,  and 
where  its  youth  was  first  nurtured  and  sustained,  there  it 
still  lives,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood,  and  full  of  its 
original  spirit.  If  discord  and  disunion  shall  wound  it ; 
if  party  strife  and  blind  ambition  shall  hawk  at  and  tear 
it ;  if  folly  and  madness,  if  uneasiness  under  salutary  arid 


220         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

necessary  restraint,  shall  succeed  to  separate  it  from  that 
Union  by  which  alone  its  existence  is  made  sure, — it  will 
stand,  in  the  end,  by  the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its 
infancy  was  rocked ;  it  will  stretch  forth  its  arm,  with 
whatever  vigor  it  may  still  retain,  over  the  friends  who 
gather  round  it ;  and  it  will  fall  at  last,  if  fall  it  must, 
amidst  the  proudest  monuments  of  its  own  glory,  and  on 
the  very  spot  of  its  origin. 

There  yet  remains  to  be  performed,  Mr.  President,  by 
far  the  most  grave  and  important  duty  which  I  feel  to  be 
devolved  on  me  by  this  occasion.  It  is  to  state,  and  to 
defend,  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  true  principles  of  the 
Constitution  under  which  we  are  here  assembled.  I  might 
well  have  desired  that  so  weighty  a  task  should  have 
fallen  into  other  and  abler  hands.  I  could  have  wished 
that  it  should  have  been  executed  by  those  whose  cha 
racter  and  experience  give  weight  and  influence  to  their 
opinions,  such  as  cannot  possibly  belong  to  mine.  But, 
sir,  I  have  met  the  occasion,  not  sought  it ;  and  I  shall 
proceed  to  state  my  own  sentiments,  without  challenging 
for  them  any  particular  regard,  with  studied  plainness  and 
as  much  precision  as  possible. 

I  understand  the  honorable  gentleman  from  South  Caro 
lina  to  maintain  that  it  is  a  right  of  the  State  legislatures 
to  interfere,  whenever,  in  their  judgment,  this  Government 
transcends  its  constitutional  limits,  and  to  arrest  the  opera 
tion  of  its  laws. 

I  understand  him  to  maintain  this  right  as  a  right  ex 
isting  under  the  Constitution,  not  as  a  right  to  overthrow 
it,  on  the  ground  of  extreme  necessity,  such  as  would 
justify  violent  revolution. 

I  understand  him  to  maintain  an  authority,  on  the  part 
of  the  States,  thus  to  interfere,  for  the  purpose  of  correct 
ing  the  exercise  of  power  by  the  General  Government,  of 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  221 

checking  it,  and  of  compelling  it  to  conform  to  their  opi 
nion  of  the  extent  of  its  power. 

I  understand  him  to  maintain  that  the  ultimate  power 
of  judging  of  the  constitutional  extent  of  its  own  authority 
is  not  lodged  exclusively  in  the  General  Government  or 
any  branch  of  it ;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  States 
may  lawfully  decide  for  themselves,  and  each  State  for 
itself,  whether,  in  a  given  case,  the  act  of  the  General 
Government  transcends  its  power. 

I  understand  him  to  insist  that,  if  the  exigency  of  the 
case,  in  the  opinion  of  any  State  Government,  require  it, 
such  State  Government  may,  by  its  own  sovereign  au 
thority,  annul  an  act  of  the  General  Government  which  it 
deems  plainly  and  palpably  unconstitutional. 

This  is  the  sum  of  what  I  understand  from  him  to  be 
the  South  Carolina  doctrine.  I  propose  to  consider  it, 
and  to  compare  it  with  the  Constitution.  Allow  me  to 
say,  as  a  preliminary  remark,  that  I  call  this  the  South 
Carolina  doctrine,  only  because  the  gentleman  himself  has 
so  denominated  it.  I  do  not  feel  at  liberty  to  say  that  South 
Carolina,  as  a  State,  has  ever  advanced  these  sentiments. 
I  hope  she  has  not,  and  never  may.  That  a  great  majority 
of  her  people  are  opposed  to  the  tariff-laws  is  doubtless 
true.  That  a  majority,  somewhat  less  than  that  just 
mentioned,  conscientiously  believe  these  laws  unconstitu 
tional,  may  probably  also  be  true.  But  that  any  majority 
holds  to  the  right  of  direct  State  interference,  at  State 
discretion,  the  right  of  nullifying  acts  of  Congress  by  acts 
of  State  legislation,  is  more  than  I  know,  and  what  I  shall 
be  slow  to  believe. 

That  there  are  individuals,  besides  the  honorable  gen 
tleman,  who  do  maintain  these  opinions,  is  quite  certain.  I 
recollect  the  recent  expression  of  a  sentiment  which  cir 
cumstances  attending  its  utterance  and  publication  justify 

19-* 


222         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

us  in  supposing  was  not  unpremeditated — "  The  sovereignty 
of  the  State :  never  to  be  controlled,  construed,  or  decided 
on,  but  by  her  own  feelings  of  honorable  justice." 

[Mr.  HAYNB  here  rose,  and  said,  that,  for  the  purpose 
of  being  clearly  understood,  he  would  state  that  his  pro 
position  was  in  the  words  of  the  Virginia  resolution,  as 
follows : 

"  That  this  Assembly  doth  explicitly  and  peremptorily 
declare,  that  it  views  the  powers  of  the  Federal  Govern 
ment,  as  resulting  from  the  compact  to  which  the  States 
are  parties,  as  limited  by  the  plain  sense  and  intention  of 
the  instrument  constituting  that  compact,  as  no  further 
valid  than  they  are  authorized  by  the  grants  enumerated 
in  that  compact ;  and  that,  in  case  of  a  deliberate,  palpable, 
and  dangerous  exercise  of  other  powers  not  granted  by  the 
said  compact,  the  States  who  are  parties  thereto  have  the 
right,  and  are  in  duty  bound,  to  interpose  for  arresting  the 
progress  of  the  evil,  and  for  maintaining,  within  their 
respective  limits,  the  authorities,  rights,  and  liberties  per 
taining  to  them."] 

Mr.  WEBSTER  resumed  : 

I  am  quite  aware,  Mr.  President,  of  the  existence  of  the 
resolution  which  the  gentleman  read,  and  has  now  repeated, 
and  that  he  relies  on  it  as  his  authority.  I  know  the 
source,  too,  from  which  it  is  understood  to  have  proceeded. 
I  need  not  say,  that  I  have  much  respect  for  the  constitu 
tional  opinions  of  Mr.  Madison :  they  would  weigh  greatly 
with  me,  always.  But,  before  the  authority  of  his  opinion 
be  vouched  for  the  gentleman's  proposition,  it  will  be  pro 
per  to  consider  what  is  the  fair  interpretation  of  that  resolu 
tion,  to  which  Mr.  Madison  is  understood  to  have  given  his 
sanction.  As  the  gentleman  construes  it,  it  is  an  authority 
for  him.  Possibly  he  may  not  have  adopted  the  right  con 
struction.  That  resolution  declares,  that  in  the  case  of  the 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  223 

dangerous  exercise  of  powers  not  granted  by  the  General 
Government,  the  /States  may  interpose  to  arrest  the  pro 
gress  of  the  evil.  But  how  interpose  ?  and  what  does  this 
declaration  purport  ?  Does  it  mean  no  more  than  that 
there  may  be  extreme  cases  in  which  the  people,  in  any 
mode  of  assembling,  may  resist  usurpation,  and  relieve 
themselves  from  a  tyrannical  government  ?  No  one  will 
deny  this.  Such  resistance  is  not  only  acknowledged  to 
be  just  in  America,  but  in  England  also.  Blackstone 
admits  as  much,  in  the  theory  and  practice,  too,  of  the 
English  Constitution.  We,  sir,  who  oppose  the  Carolina 
doctrine,  do  not  deny  that  the  people  may,  if  they  choose, 
throw  off  any  government,  when  it  becomes  oppressive  and 
intolerable,  and  erect  a  better  in  its  stead.  We  all  know 
that  civil  institutions  are  established  for  the  public  benefit, 
and  that,  when  they  cease  to  answer  the  ends  of  their  ex 
istence,  they  may  be  changed. 

But  I  do  not  understand  the  doctrine  now  contended  for 
to  be  that  which,  for  the  sake  of  distinctness,  we  may  call 
the  right  of  revolution.  I  understand  the  gentleman  to 
maintain,  that  without  revolution,  without  civil  commotion, 
without  rebellion,  a  remedy  for  supposed  abuse  and  trans 
gression  of  the  powers  of  the  General  Government  lies  in 
a  direct  appeal  to  the  interference  of  the  State  Govern 
ments.  [Mr.  HAYNE  here  rose :  He  did  not  contend,  he 
said,  for  the  mere  right  of  revolution,  but  for  the  right  of 
constitutional  resistance.  What  he  maintained  was,  that, 
in  case  of  a  plain,  palpable  violation  of  the  Constitution 
by  the  General  Government,  a  State  may  interpose  ;  and 
that  this  interposition  is  constitutional.]  Mr.  WEBSTER 
resumed : 

So,  sir,  I  understood  the  gentleman,  and  am  happy  to 
find  that  I  did  not  misunderstand  him.  What  he  contends 
for  is,  that  it  is  constitutional  to  interrupt  the  administra- 


224  SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

tion  of  the  Constitution  itself,  in  the  hands  of  those  who 
are  chosen  and  sworn  to  administer  it,  by  the  direct  inter 
ference,  in  form  of  law,  of  the  States,  in  virtue  of  their 
sovereign  capacity.  The  inherent  right  in  the  people  to 
reform  their  Government  I  do  not  deny ;  and  they  have 
another  right,  and  that  is,  to  resist  unconstitutional  laws, 
without  overturning  the  Government.  It  is  no  doctrine  of 
mine,  that  unconstitutional  laws  bind  the  people.  The 
great  question  is,  Whose  prerogative  is  it  to  decide  on  the 
constitutionality  or  unconstitutionality  of  the  laws  ?  On 
that  the  main  debate  hinges.  The  proposition  that,  in  case 
of  a  supposed  violation  of  the  Constitution  by  Congress, 
the  States  have  a  constitutional  right  to  interfere,  and 
annul  the  law  of  Congress,  is  the  proposition  of  the  gen 
tleman.  I  do  not  admit  it.  If  the  gentleman  had  intended 
no  more  than  to  assert  the  right  of  revolution  for  justifiable 
cause,  he  would  have  said  only  what  all  agree  to.  But  I 
cannot  conceive  that  there  can  be  a  middle  course  between 
submission  to  the  laws,  when  regularly  pronounced  con 
stitutional,  on  the  one  hand,  and  open  resistance,  which  is 
revolution  or  rebellion,  on  the  other.  I  say  the  right  of  a 
State  to  annul  a  law  of  Congress  cannot  be  maintained  but 
on  the  ground  of  the  unalienable  right  of  man  to  resist 
oppression  ;  that  is  to  say,  upon  the  ground  of  revolution. 
I  admit  that  there  is  an  ultimate  violent  remedy,  above  the 
Constitution,  and  in  defiance  of  the  Constitution,  which 
may  be  resorted  to,  when  a  revolution  is  to  be  justified. 
But  I  do  not  admit  that,  under  the  Constitution,  and  in 
conformity  with  it,  there  is  any  mode  in  which  a  State 
Government,  as  a  member  of  the  Union,  can  interfere  and 
stop  the  progress  of  the  General  Government,  by  force  of 
her  own  laws,  under  any  circumstances  whatever. 

This  leads  us  to  inquire  into  the  origin  of  this  Govern 
ment,  and  the  source  of  its  power.    Whose  agent  is  it  ?    Is 


BEPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  225 

it  the  creature  of  the  State  legislatures,  or  the  creature  of 
the  people  ?  If  the  Government  of  the  United  States  be 
the  agent  of  the  State  Governments,  then  they  may  control 
it,  provided  they  can  agree  in  the  manner  of  controlling  it; 
if  it  is  the  agent  of  the  people,  then  the  people  alone  can 
control  it,  restrain  it,  modify  or  reform  it.  It  is  observable 
enough,  that  the  doctrine  for  which  the  honorable  gentle 
man  contends  leads  him  to  the  necessity  of  maintaining, 
not  only  that  this  General  Government  is  the  creature  of 
the  States,  but  that  it  is  the  creature  of  each  of  the  States 
severally ;  so  that  each  may  assert  the  power,  for  itself,  of 
determining  whether  it  acts  within  the  limits  of  its  authority. 
It  is  the  servant  of  four-and-twenty  masters,  of  different 
wills  and  different  purposes ;  and  yet  bound  to  obey  all. 
This  absurdity  (for  it  seems  no  less)  arises  from  a  miscon 
ception  as  to  the  origin  of  this  Government,  and  its  true 
character.  It  is,  sir,  the  people's  Constitution,  the  peo 
ple's  Government ;  made  for  the  people ;  made  by  the 
people  ;  and  answerable  to  the  people.  The  people  of  the 
United  States  have  declared  that  this  Constitution  shall  be 
the  supreme  law.  We  must  either  admit  the  proposition, 
or  dispute  their  authority.  The  States  are  unquestionably 
sovereign,  so  far  as  their  sovereignty  is  not  affected  by  this 
supreme  law.  The  State  legislatures,  as  political  bodies, 
however  sovereign,  are  yet  not  sovereign  over  the  people. 
So  far  as  the  people  have  given  power  to  the  General  Go 
vernment,  so  far  the  grant  is  unquestionably  good,  and  the 
Government  holds  of  the  people,  and  not  of  the  State 
Governments.  We  are  all  agents  of  the  same  supreme 
power,  the  people.  The  General  Government  and  the 
State  Governments  derive  their  authority  from  the  same 
source.  Neither  can,  in  relation  to  the  other,  be  called 
primary ;  though  one  is  definite  and  restricted,  and  the 
other  general  and  residuary. 


l!26  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

The  national  Government  possesses  those  powers  which 
it  can  be  shown  the  people  have  conferred  on  it,  and  no 
more.  All  the  rest  belongs  to  the  State  Governments,  or 
to  the  people  themselves.  So  far  as  the  people  have 
restrained  State  sovereignty  by  the  expression  of  their 
will,  in  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  so  far,  it 
must  be  admitted,  State  sovereignty  is  effectually  con 
trolled,  I  do  not  contend  that  it  is,  or  ought  to  be,  con 
trolled  further.  The  sentiment  to  which  I  have  referred 
propounds  that  State  sovereignty  is  only  to  be  controlled 
by  its  own  "feeling  of  justice;"  that  is  to  say,  it  is  not 
to  be  controlled  at  all ;  for  one  who  is  to  follow  his  feel 
ings  is  under  no  legal  control.  Now,  however  men  may 
think  this  ought  to  be,  the  fact  is,  that  the  people  of  the 
United  States  have  chosen  to  impose  control  on  State 
sovereignties.  The  Constitution  has  ordered  the  matter 
differently  from  what  this  opinion  announces.  To  make 
war,  for  instance,  is  an  exercise  of  sovereignty;  but  the 
Constitution  declares  that  no  State  shall  make  war.  To 
coin  money  is  another  exercise  of  sovereign  power ;  but  no 
State  is  at  liberty  to  coin  money.  Again :  the  Constitu 
tion  says,  that  no  sovereign  State  shall  be  so  sovereign  as 
to  make  a  treaty.  These  prohibitions,  it  must  be  con 
fessed,  are  a  control  on  the  State  sovereignty  of  South 
Carolina,  as  well  as  of  the  other  States,  which  does  not 
arise  "from  her  own  feelings  of  honorable  justice."  Such 
an  opinion,  therefore,  is  in  defiance  of  the  plainest  pro 
visions  of  the  Constitution. 

There  are  other  proceedings  of  public  bodies  which  have 
already  been  alluded  to,  and  to  which  I  refer  again  for  the 
purpose  of  ascertaining  more  fully  what  is  the  length  and 
breadth  of  that  doctrine,  denominated  the  Carolina  doc 
trine,  which  the  honorable  member  has  now  stood  up  on 
this  floor  to  maintain. 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  227 

In  one  of  them  I  find  it  resolved  that  "  the  tariff  of 
1828,  and  every  other  tariff  designed  to  promote  one 
branch  of  industry  at  the  expense  of  others,  is  contrary 
to  the  meaning  and  intention  of  the  Federal  compact ;  and 
as  such,  a  dangerous,  palpable,  and  deliberate  usurpation 
of  power,  by  a  determined  majority,  wielding  the  General 
Government  beyond  the  limits  of  its  delegated  powers,  as 
calls  upon  the  States  which  compose  the  suffering  minority, 
in  thei**  sovereign  capacity,  to  exercise  the  powers  which, 
as  sovereigns,  necessarily  devolve  upon  them  when  their 
compact  is  violated." 

Observe,  sir,  that  this  resolution  holds  the  tariff  of  1828, 
and  every  other  tariff  designed  to  promote  one  branch  of 
industry  at  the  expense  of  another,  to  be  such  a  dangerous, 
palpable,  and  deliberate  usurpation  of  power,  as  calls  upon 
the  States,  in  their  sovereign  capacity,  to  interfere  by  their 
own  power.  This  denunciation,  Mr.  President,  you  will 
please  to  observe,  includes  our  old  tariff  of  1816,  as  well 
as  all  others ;  because  that  was  established  to  promote  the 
interest  of  the  manufactures  of  cotton,  to  the  manifest  and 
admitted  injury  of  the  Calcutta  cotton-trade.  Observe, 
again,  that  all  the  qualifications  are  here  rehearsed,  and 
charged  upon  the  tariff,  which  are  necessary  to  bring  the 
case  within  the  gentleman's  proposition.  The  tariff  is  a 
usurpation ;  it  is  a  dangerous  usurpation ;  it  is  a  palpable 
usurpation  ;  it  is  a  deliberate  usurpation.  It  is  such  a 
usurpation  as  calls  upon  the  States  to  exercise  their  right 
of  interference.  Here  is  a  case,  then,  within  the  gentle 
man's  principles,  and  all  his  qualifications  of  his  principles. 
It  is  a  case  for  action.  The  Constitution  is  plainly,  dan 
gerously,  palpably,  and  deliberately  violated ;  and  the 
States  must  interpose  their  own  authority  to  arrest  the 
law.  Let  us  suppose  the  State  of  South  Carolina  to  ex 
press  this  same  opinion,  by  the  voice  of  her  legislature. 


228  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

That  would  be  very  imposing ;  but  what  then  ?  Is  the 
voice  of  one  State  conclusive  ?  It  so  happens  that,  at  the 
very  moment  when  South  Carolina  resolves  that  the  tariff- 
laws  are  unconstitutional,  Pennsylvania  and  Kentucky 
resolve  exactly  the  reverse.  They  hold  those  laws  to  be 
both  highly  proper  and  strictly  constitutional.  And  now, 
sir,  how  does  the  honorable  member  propose  to  deal  with 
this  case  ?  How  does  he  get  out  of  this  difficulty,  upon 
any  principle  of  his  ?  His  construction  gets  us  into  it ; 
how  does  he  propose  to  get  us  out  ? 

In  Carolina,  the  tariff  is  a  palpable,  deliberate  usurpa 
tion  ;  Carolina,  therefore,  may  nullify  it,  and  refuse  to 
pay  the  duties.  In  Pennsylvania,  it  is  both  clearly  con 
stitutional  and  highly  expedient ;  and  there  the  duties  are 
to  be  paid.  And  yet  we  live  under  a  Government  of 
uniform  laws,  and  under  a  Constitution,  too,  which  con 
tains  an  express  provision,  as  it  happens,  that  all  duties 
shall  be  equal  in  all  the  States  !  Does  not  this  approach 
absurdity  ? 

If  there  be  no  power  to  settle  such  questions,  independent 
of  either  of  the  States,  is  not  the  whole  Union  a  rope  of 
sand  ?  Are  we  not  thrown  back  again  precisely  upon  the 
old  Confederation  ? 

It  is  too  plain  to  be  argued.  Four-and-twenty  interpre 
ters  of  constitutional  law,  each  with  a  power  to  decide  for 
itself,  and  none  with  authority  to  bind  anybody  else,  and 
this  constitutional  law  the  only  bond  of  their  union  !  What 
is  such  a  state  of  things  but  a  mere  connection  during 
pleasure,  or,  to  use  the  phraseology  of  the  times,  during 
feeling  ?  And  that  feeling,  too,  not  the  feeling  of  the 
people  who  established  the  Constitution,  but  the  feeling  of 
the  State  Governments. 

In  another  of  the  South  Carolina  addresses,  having  pre 
mised  that  the  crisis  requires  "  all  the  concentrated  energy 


KEPLY    TO    MR.  HAYNE.  229 

of  passion,"  an  attitude  of  open  resistance  to  the  laws  of 
the  Union  is  advised.  Open  resistance  to  the  laws,  then, 
is  the  constitutional  remedy,  the  conservative  power  of  the 
State,  which  the  South  Carolina  doctrines  teach  for  the 
redress  of  political  evils,  real  or  imaginary.  And  its 
authors  further  say  that,  appealing  with  confidence  to  the 
Constitution  itself  to  justify  their  opinions,  they  cannot 
consent  to  try  their  accuracy  by  the  courts  of  justice.  In 
one  sense,  indeed,  sir,  this  is  assuming  an  attitude  of  open 
resistance  in  favor  of  liberty.  But  what  sort  of  liberty  ? 
The  liberty  of  establishing  their  own  opinions,  in  defiance 
of  the  opinions  of  all  others;  the  liberty  of  judging  and 
of  deciding  exclusively  themselves,  in  a  matter  in  which 
others  have  as  much  right  to  judge  and  decide  as  they ;  the 
liberty  of  placing  their  opinions  above  the  judgment  of  all 
others,  above  the  laws,  and  above  the  Constitution.  This 
is  their  liberty,  and  this  is  the  fair  result  of  the  proposition 
contended  for  by  the  honorable  gentleman.  Or  it  may  be 
more  properly  said,  it  is  identical  with  it,  rather  than  a 
result  from  it.  In  the  same  publication  we  find  the  follow 
ing  :  "  Previously  to  our  Revolution,  when  the  arm  of 
oppression  was  stretched  over  New  England,  where  did 
our  Northern  brethren  meet  with  a  braver  sympathy  than 
that  which  sprung  from  the  bosom  of  Carolinians  ?  We 
had  no  extortion,  no  oppression,  no  collision  with  the  king's 
ministers,  no  navigation  interests  springing  up,  in  envious 
rivalry  of  England." 

This  seems  extraordinary  language.  South  Carolina  no 
collision  with  the  king's  ministers  in  1775  !  no  extortion  ! 
no  oppression!  But,  sir,  it  is  also  most  significant  language. 
Does  any  man  doubt  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  penned  ? 
Can  any  one  fail  to  see  that  it  was  designed  to  raise  in  the 
reader's  mind  the  question,  whether,  at  this  time, — that  is 
to  say,  in  1828, — South  Carolina  has  any  collision  with 

20 


230  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

the  king's  ministers,  any  oppression,  or  extortion,  to  feac 
from  England?  whether,  in  short,  England  is  not  as 
naturally  the  friend  of  South  Carolina  as  New  England, 
with  her  navigation  interests  springing  up  in  envious 
rivalry  of  England  ? 

Is  it  not  strange,  sir,  that  an  intelligent  man  in  South 
Carolina,  in  1828,  should  thus  labor  to  prove,  that,  in 
1775,  there  was  no  hostility,  no  cause  of  war,  between 
South  Carolina  and  England  ?  that  she  had  no  occasion, 
in  reference  to  her  own  interest,  or  from  a  regard  to  her 
own  welfare,  to  take  up  arms  in  the  Revolutionary  con 
test  ?  Can  any  one  account  for  the  expression  of  such 
strange  sentiments,  and  their  circulation  through  the 
State,  otherwise  than  by  supposing  the  object  to  be,  what 
I  have  already  intimated,  to  raise  the  question,  if  they 
had  no  "  collision'  (mark  the  expression)  with  the  ministers 
of  King  George  the  Third,  in  1775,  what  collision  have 
they,  in  1828,  with  the  ministers  of  King  George  the 
Fourth?  What  is  there  now,  in  the  existing  state  of 
things,  to  separate  Carolina  from  Old,  more,  or  rather 
less,  than  from  New^  England  ? 

Resolutions,  sir,  have  been  recently  passed  by  the 
Legislature  of  South  Carolina.  I  need  not  refer  to  them ; 
they  go  no  further  than  the  honorable  gentleman  himself 
has  gone — and  I  hope  not  so  far.  I  content  myself,  there 
fore,  with  debating  the  matter  with  him. 

And  now,  sir,  what  I  have  first  to  say  on  the  subject  is, 
that  at  no  time,  and  under  no  circumstances,  has  New 
England,  or  any  State  in  New  England,  or  any  respectable 
body  of  persons  in  New  England,  or  any  public  man  of 
standing  in  New  England,  put  forth  such  a  doctrine  as  this 
Carolina  doctrine. 

The  gentleman  has  found  no  case — he  can  find  none — 
to  support  his  own  opinions  by  New  England  authority. 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  281 

New  England  has  studied  the  Constitution  in  other  schools, 
and  under  other  teachers.  She  looks  upon  it  with 
other  regards,  and  deems  more  highly  and  reverently 
both  of  its  just  authority  and  its  utility  and  excellence. 
The  history  of  her  legislative  proceedings  may  be  traced 
—  the  ephemeral  effusions  of  temporary  bodies,  called 
together  by  the  excitement  of  the  occasion,  may  be  hunted 
up — they  have  been  hunted  up.  The  opinions  and  votes 
of  her  public  men,  in  and  out  of  Congress,  may  be  ex 
plored — it  will  all  be  in  vain.  The  Carolina  doctrine  can 
derive  from  her  neither  countenance  nor  support.  She 
rejects  it  now  ;  she  always  did  reject  it ;  and  till  she  loses 
her  senses,  she  always  will  reject  it.  The  honorable 
member  has  referred  to  expressions  on  the  subject  of  the 
embargo  law,  made  in  this  place  by  an  honorable  and 
venerable  gentleman  (Mr.  Hillhouse)  now  favoring  us  with 
his  presence.  He  quotes  that  distinguished  Senator  as 
saying,  that  in  his  judgment  the  embargo  law  was  uncon 
stitutional,  and  that,  therefore,  in  his  opinion,  the  people 
were  not  bound  to  obey  it. 

That,  sir,  is  perfectly  constitutional  language.  An 
unconstitutional  law  is  not  binding ;  but  then  it  does  not 
rest  with  a  resolution  or  a  law  of  a  State  legislature  to 
decide  whether  an  act  of  Congress  be  or  be  not  constitu 
tional.  An  unconstitutional  act  of  Congress  would  not 
bind  the  people  of  this  District,  although  they  have  no 
legislature  to  interfere  in  their  behalf;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  constitutional  law  of  Congress  does  bind  the 
citizens  of  every  State,  although  all  their  legislatures 
should  undertake  to  annul  it,  by  act  or  resolution.  The 
venerable  Connecticut  Senator  is  a  constitutional  lawyer, 
of  sound  principles  arid  enlarged  knowledge ;  a  states 
man  practised  and  experienced,  bred  in  the  company  of 
Washington,  and  holding  just  views  upon  the  nature  of  our 


232         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

Governments.  He  believed  the  embargo  unconstitutioval, 
and  so  did  others ;  but  what  then  ?  Who  did  he  suppose 
was  to  decide  that  question  V  The  State  legislatures  ? 
Certainly  not.  No  such  sentiment  ever  escaped  his  lips. 
Let  us  follow  up,  sir,  this  New  England  opposition  to  the 
embargo  laws ;  let  us  trace  it,  till  we  discern  the  principle 
which  controlled  and  governed  New  England  throughout 
the  whole  course  of  that  opposition.  We  shall  then  see 
what  similarity  there  is  between  the  New  England  school 
of  constitutional  opinions  and  this  modern  Carolina  school. 
The  gentleman,  I  think,  read  a  petition  from  some  single 
individual,  addressed  to  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts, 
asserting  the  Carolina  doctrine — that  is,  the  right  of  State 
interference  to  arrest  the  laws  of  the  Union.  The  fate 
of  that  petition  shows  the  sentiment  of  the  Legislature. 
It  met  no  favor.  The  opinions  of  Massachusetts  were 
otherwise.  They  had  been  expressed  in  1798,  in  answer 
to  the  resolutions  of  Virginia,  and  she  did  not  depart  from 
them,  nor  bend  them  to  the  times.  Misgoverned,  wronged, 
oppressed,  as  she  felt  herself  to  be,  she  still  held  fast  her 
integrity  to  the  Union.  The  gentleman  may  find  in  her 
proceedings  much  evidence  of  dissatisfaction  with  the 
measures  of  Government,  and  great  and  deep  dislike  to 
the  embargo ;  all  this  makes  the  case  so  much  the  stronger 
for  her ;  for,  notwithstanding  all  this  dissatisfaction  and 
dislike,  she  claimed  no  right  still  to  sever  asunder  the 
bonds  of  the  Union.  There  was  heat  and  there  was  anger 
in  her  political  feeling.  Be  it  so.  Her  heat  or  her  anger 
did  not,  nevertheless,  betray  her  into  infidelity  to  the 
Government.  The  gentleman  labors  to  prove  that  she 
disliked  the  embargo  as  much  as  South  Carolina  dislikes 
the  tariff,  and  expressed  her  dislike  as  strongly.  Be  it  so ; 
but  did  she  propose  the  Carolina  remedy  ?  Did  she 
threaten  to  interfere,  ly  State  -  authority,  to  annul  the 


REPLY   TO   ME.  HAYNE.  233 

laws  of  the  Union  ?     That  is  the  question  for  the  gentle 
man's  consideration. 

No  doubt,  sir,  a  great  majority  of  the  people  of  New 
England  conscientiously  believed  the  embargo  law  of 
1807  unconstitutional — as  conscientiously,  certainly,  as  the 
people  of  South  Carolina  hold  that  opinion  of  the  tariff. 
They  reasoned  thus :  Congress  has  power  to  regulate  com 
merce  ;  but  here  is  a  law,  they  said,  stopping  all  com 
merce,  and  stopping  it  indefinitely.  The  law  is  perpetual ; 
that  is,  it  is  not  limited  in  point  of  time,  and  must  of  course 
continue  till  it  shall  be  repealed  by  some  other  law.  It  is 
as  perpetual,  therefore,  as  the  law  against  treason  or  mur 
der.  Now,  is  this  regulating  commerce,  or  destroying  it  ? 
Is  it  guiding,  controlling,  giving  the  rule  to  commerce,  as 
a  subsisting  thing,  or  is  it  putting  an  end  to  it  altogether  ? 
Nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  a  majority  in  New  Eng 
land  deemed  this  law  a  violation  of  the  Constitution.  The 
very  case  required  by  the  gentleman  to  justify  State 
interference  had  then  arisen.  Massachusetts  believed  this 
law  to  be  "  a  deliberate,  palpable,  and  dangerous  exercise 
of  a  power  not  granted  by  the  Constitution."  Deliberate 
it  was,  for  it  was  long  continued ;  palpable  she  thought  it, 
as  no  words  in  the  Constitution  gave  the  power,  and  only 
a  construction,  in  her  opinion  most  violent,  raised  it ; 
dangerous  it  was,  since  it  threatened  utter  ruin  to  her 
most  important  interests.  Here,  then,  was  a  Carolina 
case.  How  did  Massachusetts  deal  with  it  ?  It  was,  as 
she  thought,  a  plain,  manifest,  palpable  violation  of  the 
Constitution;  and  it  brought  ruin  to  her  doors.  Thou 
sands  of  families,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  indi 
viduals,  were  beggared  by  it.  While  she  saw  and  felt  all 
this,  she  saw  and  felt,  also,  that  as  a  measure  of  national 
policy,  it  was  perfectly  futile ;  and  that  the  country  was 
no  way  benefited  by  that  which  caused  so  much  indi- 

20* 


234  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

vidual  distress  ;  and  that  it  was  efficient  only  for  the  pro 
duction,  of  evil,  and  all  that  evil  inflicted  on  ourselves.  In 
such  a  case,  under  such  circumstances,  how  did  Massa 
chusetts  demean  herself?  Sir,  she  remonstrated,  sh« 
memorialized,  she  addressed  herself  to  the  General  Govern 
ment,  not  exactly  "  with  the  concentrated  energy  of  pas 
sion,"  but  with  her  strong  sense,  and  the  energy  of  sobei 
conviction.  But  she  did  not  interpose  the  arm  of  hei 
power  to  arrest  the  law,  and  break  the  embargo.  Far 
from  it.  Her  principles  bound  her  to  two  things ;  and 
she  followed  her  principles,  lead  where  they  might.  First, 
to  submit  to  every  constitutional  law  of  Congress  :  and> 
secondly,  if  the  constitutional  validity  of  the  law  be 
doubted,  to  refer  that  question  to  the  decision  of  the  pro 
per  tribunals.  The  first  principle  is  vain  and  ineffectual 
without  the  second.  A  majority  of  us  in  New  England 
believed  the  embargo  law  unconstitutional ;  but  the  great 
question  was,  and  always  will  be,  in  such  cases,  Who  is  to 
decide  this  ?  Who  is  to  judge  between  the  people  and  the 
Government  ?  And,  sir,  it  is  quite  plain,  that  the  Con 
stitution  of  the  United  States  confers  on  the  Government 
itself,  to  be  exercised  by  its  appropriate  department,  this 
power  of  deciding,  ultimately  and  conclusively,  upon  the 
just  extent  of  its  own  authority.  If  this  had  not  been 
done,  we  should  not  have  advanced  a  single  step  beyond 
the  old  Confederation. 

Being  fully  of  opinion  that  the  embargo  law  was  uncon 
stitutional,  the  people  of  New  England  were  yet  eaually 
clear  in  the  opinion — it  was  a  matter  they  did  not  doubt 
upon — that  the  question,  after  all,  must  be  decided  by  the 
judicial  tribunals  of  the  United  States.  Before  those 
tribunals,  therefore,  they  brought  the  question.  Under 
the  provisions  of  the  law,  they  had  given  bonds,  to  millions 
in  amount,  and  which  were  alleged  to  be  forfeited.  They 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  235 

Buffered  the  bonds  to  be  sued,  and  thus  raised  the  question. 
In  the  old-fashioned  way  of  settling  disputes,  they  went  to 
law.  The  case  came  to  hearing  and  solemn  argument ; 
and  he  who  espoused  their  cause  and  stood  up  for  them 
against  the  validity  of  the  act,  was  none  other  than  that 
great  man,  of  whom  the  gentleman  has  made  honorable 
mention,  SAMUEL  DEXTER.  He  was  then,  sir,  in  the  ful 
ness  of  his  knowledge  and  the  maturity  of  his  strength. 
He  had  retired  from  long  and  distinguished  public  service 
here,  to  the  renewed  pursuit  of  professional  duties;  carrying 
with  him  all  that  enlargement  and  expansion,  all  the  new 
strength  and  force,  which  an  acquaintance  with  the  more 
general  subjects  discussed  in  the  national  councils  is  capable 
of  adding  to  professional  attainment,  in  a  mind  of  true 
greatness  and  comprehension.  He  was  a  lawyer,  and  he 
was  also  a  statesman.  He  had  studied  the  Constitution, 
when  he  filled  public  station,  that  he  might  defend  it ;  he 
had  examined  its  principles,  that  he  might  maintain  them. 
More  than  all  men,  or  at  least  as  much  as  any  man,  he 
was  attached  to  the  General  Government,  and  to  the  union 
of  the  States.  His  feelings  and  opinions  all  ran  in  that 
direction.  A  question  of  constitutional  law,  too,  was,  of 
all  subjects,  that  one  which  was  best  suited  to  his  talents 
and  learning.  Aloof  from  technicality,  and  unfettered  by 
artificial  rule,  such  a  question  gave  opportunity  for  that 
deep  and  clear  analysis,  that  mighty  grasp  of  principle, 
which  so  much  distinguished  his  higher  efforts.  His  very 
statement  was  argument ;  his  inference  seemed  demonstra 
tion.  The  earnestness  of  his  own  conviction  wrought  con 
viction  in  others.  One  was  convinced,  and  believed,  and 
assented,  because  it  was  gratifying,  delightful,  to  think, 
and  feel,  and  believe,  in  unison  with  an  intellect  of  such 
evident  superiority. 

Mr.  Dexter,  sir,  such  as  I  have  described  him,  argued 


236  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

the  New  England  cause.  He  put  into  his  effort  his  whole 
heart,  as  well  as  all  the  powers  of  his  understanding ;  for 
he  had  avowed,  in  the  most  public  manner,  his  entire  con 
currence  with  his  neighbors,  on  the  point  in  dispute.  He 
argued  the  cause  ;  it  was  lost,  and  New  England  submitted. 
The  established  tribunals  pronounced  the  law  constitutional, 
and  New  England  acquiesced.  Now,  sir,  is  not  this  the 
exact  opposite  of  the  doctrine  of  the  gentleman  from  South 
Carolina  ?  According  to  him,  instead  of  referring  to  the 
judicial  tribunals,  we  should  have  broken  up  the  embargo, 
by  laws  of  our  own ;  we  should  have  repealed  it,  quoad 
New  England ;  for  we  had  a  strong,  palpable,  and  oppress 
ive  case.  Sir,  we  believed  the  embargo  unconstitutional ; 
but  still,  that  was  matter  of  opinion,  and  who  was  to  decide 
it  ?  We  thought  it  a  clear  case  ;  but,  nevertheless,  we  did 
not  take  the  laws  into  our  hands,  because  we  did  not  wish 
to  bring  about  a  revolution,  nor  to  break  up  the  Union; 
for  I  maintain,  that,  between  submission  to  the  decision  of 
the  constituted  tribunals,  and  revolution,  or  disunion,  there 
is  no  middle  ground — there  is  no  ambiguous  condition,  half 
allegiance  and  half  rebellion.  There  is  no  treason  made  cosy. 
And,  sir,  how  futile,  how  very  futile,  it  is,  to  admit  the  right 
of  State  interference,  and  then  to  attempt  to  save  it  from 
the  character  of  unlawful  resistance,  by  adding  terms  of 
qualification  to  the  causes  and  occasions,  leaving  all  the 
qualifications,  like  the  case  itself,  in  the  discretion  of  the 
State  Governments !  It  must  be  a  clear  case,  it  is  said ;  a 
deliberate  case  ;  a  palpable  case ;  a  dangerous  case.  But, 
then,  the  State  is  still  left  at  liberty  to  decide  for  herself 
what  is  clear,  what  is  deliberate,  what  is  palpable,  what  is 
dangerous. 

Do  adjectives  and  epithets  avail  any  thing  ?  Sir,  the 
human  mind  is  so  constituted,  that  the  merits  of  both  sides 
of  a  controversy  appear  very  clear,  and  very  palpable,  to 


REPLY   TO    ME.  HAYNE.  237 

those  who  respectively  espouse  them,  and  both  sides  usually 
grow  clearer,  as  the  controversy  advances.  South  Carolina 
sees  unconstitutionally  in  the  tariff — she  sees  oppression 
there,  also,  and  she  sees  danger.  Pennsylvania,  with  a 
vision  not  less  sharp,  looks  at  the  same  tariff,  and  sees  no 
such  thing  in  it — she  sees  it  all  constitutional,  all  useful,  all 
safe.  The  faith  of  South  Carolina  is  strengthened  by  op 
position,  and  she  now  not  only  sees,  but  resolves,  that  the 
tariff  is  palpably  unconstitutional,  oppressive,  and  dan 
gerous  :  but  Pennsylvania,  not  to  be  behind  her  neighbors, 
and  equally  willing  to  strengthen  her  own  faith  by  a  con 
fident  asseveration,  resolves  also,  and  gives  to  every  warm 
affirmative  of  South  Carolina,  a  plain,  downright  Penn 
sylvania  negative.  South  Carolina,  to  show  the  strength 
and  unity  of  her  opinions,  brings  her  assembly  to  a  unani 
mity,  within  seven  votes ;  Pennsylvania,  not  to  be  outdone 
in  this  respect  more  than  others,  reduces  her  dissentient 
fraction  to  five  votes.  Now,  sir,  again  I  ask  the  gentle 
man,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  Are  these  States  both  right  ? 
Is  he  bound  to  consider  them  both  right  ?  If  not,  which 
is  in  the  wrong  ?  or,  rather,  which  has  the  best  right  to 
decide  ? 

And  if  he,  and  if  I,  are  not  to  know  what  the  Con 
stitution  means,  and  what  it  is,  till  those  two  State  legis 
latures,  and  the  twenty-two  others,  shall  agree  in  its 
construction,  what  have  we  sworn  to,  when  we  have  sworn 
to  maintain  it  ?  I  was  forcibly  struck,  sir,  with  one  re 
flection,  as  the  gentleman  went  on  with  his  speech.  He 
quoted  Mr.  Madison's  resolutions  to  prove  that  a  State 
may  interfere,  in  a  case  of  deliberate,  palpable,  and 
dangerous  exercise  of  a  power  not  granted.  The  honor 
able  member  supposes  the  tariff-law  to  be  such  an  exercise 
of  power,  and  that,  consequently,  a  case  has  arisen  in 
which  the  State  may,  if  it  see  fit,  interfere  by  its  own  law. 


238  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

Now,  it  so  happens,  nevertheless,  that  Mr.  Madison  him 
self  deems  this  same  tariff-law  quite  constitutional.  In 
stead  of  a  clear  and  palpable  violation,  it  is,  in  his  judg 
ment,  no  violation  at  all.  So  that,  while  they  use  bis 
authority  for  a  hypothetical  case,  they  reject  it  in  the  very 
case  before  them.  All  this,  sir,  shows  the  inherent  futility 
— I  had  almost  used  a  stronger  word — of  conceding  this 
power  of  interference  to  the  States,  and  then  attempting 
to  secure  it  from  abuse  by  imposing  qualifications  of  which 
the  States  themselves  are  to  judge.  One  of  two  things  is 
true  :  either  the  laws  of  the  Union  are  beyond  the  control 
of  the  States,  or  else  we  have  no  Constitution  of  General 
Government,  and  are  thrust  back  again  to  the  days  of  the 
Confederacy. 

Let  me  here  say,  sir,  that  if  the  gentleman's  doctrine 
had  been  received  and  acted  upon  in  New  England,  in  the 
times  of  the  embargo  and  non-intercourse,  we  should  pro 
bably  not  now  have  been  here.  The  Government  would 
very  likely  have  gone  to  pieces  and  crumbled  into  dust. 
No  stronger  case  can  ever  arise  than  existed  under  those 
laws ;  no  States  can  ever  entertain  a  clearer  conviction 
than  the  New  England  States  then  entertained ;  and  if 
they  had  been  under  the  influence  of  that  heresy  of  opi 
nion,  as  I  must  call  it,  which  the  honorable  member 
espouses,  this  Union  would,  in  all  probability,  have  been 
scattered  to  the  four  winds.  I  ask  the  gentleman,  there 
fore,  to  apply  his  principles  to  that  case ;  I  ask  him  to 
come  forth  and  declare  whether,  in  his  opinion,  the  New 
England  States  would  have  been  justified  in  interfering  to 
break  up  the  embargo  system,  under  the  conscientious 
opinions  which  they  held  upon  it.  Had  they  a  right  to 
annul  that  law  ?  Does  he  admit,  or  deny  ?  If  that  which 
is  thought  palpably  unconstitutional  in  South  Carolina 
justifies  that  State  in  arresting  the  progress  of  the  law, 


REPLY   TO   MR.  IIAYNE.  U39 

tell  me  whether  that  which  was  thought  palpably  un 
constitutional  also  in  Massachusetts  would  have  justified 
her  in  doing  the  same  thing.  Sir,  I  deny  the  whole  doc 
trine.  It  has  not  a  foot  of  ground  in  the  Constitution  to 
stand  on.  No  public  man  of  reputation  ever  advanced  it 
in  Massachusetts,  in  the  warmest  times,  or  could  maintain 
himself  upon  it  there  at  any  time. 

I  wish  now,  sir,  to  make  a  remark  upon  the  Virginia 
resolutions  of  1798.  I  cannot  undertake  t0  say  how  these 
resolutions  were  understood  by  those  who  passed  them. 
Their  language  is  not  a  little  indefinite.  In  the  case  of 
the  exercise,  by  Congress,  of  a  dangerous  power,  not 
granted  to  them,  the  resolutions  assert  the  right,  on  the 
part  of  the  State,  to  interfere,  and  arrest  the  progress  of 
the  evil.  This  is  susceptible  of  more  than  one  interpreta 
tion.  It  may  mean  no  more  than  that  the  States  may 
interfere  by  complaint  and  remonstrance,  or  by  proposing 
to  the  people  an  alteration  of  the  Federal  Constitution. 
This  would  all  be  quite  unobjectionable  ;  or  it  may  be 
that  no  more  is  meant  than  to  assert  the  general  right  of 
revolution,  as  against  all  Governments,  in  cases  of  in 
tolerable  oppression.  This  no  one  doubts ;  and  this,  in 
my  opinion,  is  all  that  he  who  framed  these  resolutions 
could  have  meant  by  it ;  for  I  shall  not  readily  believe 
that  he  was  ever  of  opinion  that  a  State,  under  the  Con 
stitution,  and  in  conformity  with  it,  could,  upon  the  ground 
of  her  own  opinion  of  its  unconstitutionality,  however  clear 
and  palpable  she  might  think  the  case,  annul  a  law  of  Con 
gress,  so  far  as  it  should  operate  on  herself,  by  her  own 
legislative  power. 

I  must  now  beg  to  ask,  sir,  Whence  is  this  supposed 
right  of  the  States  derived  ?  "Where  do  they  get  the 
power  to  interfere  with  the  laws  of  the  Union  ?  Sir,  the 
opinion  which  the  honorable  gentleman  maintains  is  a 


240  'SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

notion  founded  in  a  total  misapprehension,  in  my  judgment, 
of  the  origin  of  this  Government,  and  of  the  foundation  on 
which  it  stands.  I  hold  it  to  be  a  popular  Government, 
erected  by  the  people,  those  who  administer  it  responsible 
to  the  people,  and  itself  capable  of  being  amended  and 
modified,  just  as  the  people  may  choose  it  should  be.  It 
is  as  popular,  just  as  truly  emanating  from  the  people,  as 
the  State  Governments.  It  is  created  for  one  purpose ; 
the  State  Governments  for  another.  It  has  its  own 
powers  ;  they  have  theirs.  There  is  no  more  authority 
with  them  to  arrest  the  operation  of  a  law  of  Congress, 
than  with  Congress  to  arrest  the  operation  of  their  laws. 
We  are  here  to  administer  a  Constitution  emanating  from 
the  people,  and  trusted  by  them  to  our  administration.  It 
is  not  the  creature  of  the  State  Governments.  It  is  of  no 
moment  to  the  argument  that  certain  acts  of  the  State 
legislatures  are  necessary  to  fill  our  seats  in  this  body. 
That  is  not  one  of  their  original  State  powers,  a  part  of 
the  sovereignty  of  the  State.  It  is  a  duty  which  the 
people,  by  the  Constitution  itself,  have  imposed  on  the 
State  legislatures,  and  which  they  might  have  left  to  be 
performed  elsewhere,  if  they  had  seen  fit.  So  they  have 
left  the  choice  of  President  with  electors ;  but  all  this  does 
not  affect  the  proposition  that  this  whole  Government — 
President,  Senate,  and  House  of  Representatives  —  is  a 
popular  Government.  It  leaves  it  still  all  its  popular  cha 
racter.  The  Governor  of  a  State  (in  some  of  the  States) 
is  chosen  not  directly  by  the  people,  but  by  those  who  are 
chosen  by  the  people  for  the  purpose  of  performing,  among 
other  duties,  that  of  electing  a  Governor.  Is  the  Govern 
ment  of  the  State  on  that  account  not  a  popular  Govern 
ment  ?  This  Government,  sir,  is  the  independent  offspring 
of  the  popular  will.  It  is  not  the  creature  of  State  legis 
latures  ;  nay,  more,  if  the  whole  truth  must  be  told,  the 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  241 

people  brought  it  into  existence,  established  it,  and  have 
hitherto  supported  it,  for  the  very  purpose,  amongst  others, 
of  imposing  certain  salutary  restraints  on  State  sovereign 
ties.  The  States  cannot  now  make  war ;  they  cannot  con 
tract  alliances ;  they  cannot  make,  each  for  itself,  separate 
regulations  of  commerce  ;  they  cannot  lay  imposts ;  they 
cannot  coin  money.  If  this  Constitution,  sir,  be  the 
creature  of  State  legislatures,  it  must  be  admitted  that  it 
has  obtained  a  strange  control  over  the  volitions  of  its 
creators. 

The  people  then,  sir,  erected  this  Government.  They 
gave  it  a  Constitution,  and  in  that  Constitution  they  have 
enumerated  the  powers  which  they  bestow  on  it.  They 
have  made  it  a  limited  Government.  They  have  defined 
its  authority.  They  have  restrained  it  to  the  exercise  of 
such  powers  as  are  granted ;  and  all  others,  they  declare, 
are  reserved  to  the  States  or  the  people.  But,  sir,  they 
have  not  stopped  here.  If  they  had,  they  would  have 
accomplished  but  half  their  work.  No  definition  can  bo 
so  clear  as  to  avoid  possibility  of  doubt ;  no  limitation  so 
precise  as  to  exclude  all  uncertainty.  Who,  then,  shall 
construe  this  grant  of  the  people  ?  Who  shall  interpret 
their  will,  where  it  may  be  supposed  they  have  left  it 
doubtful  ?  With  whom  do  they  leave  this  ultimate  right 
of  deciding  on  the  powers  of  the  Government  ?  Sir,  they 
have  settled  all  this  in  the  fullest  manner.  They  have 
left  it  with  the  Government  itself,  in  its  appropriate 
branches.  Sir,  the  very  chief  end,  the  main  design  for 
which  the  whole  Constitution  was  framed  and  adopted,  was 
to  establish  a  Government  that  should  not  be  obliged  to 
act  through  State  agency,  or  depend  on  State  opinion  and 
discretion.  The  people  had  had  quite  enough  of  that 
kind  of  Government  under  the  Confederacy.  Under  that 
system,  the  legal  action — the  application  of  law  to  indi 

21 


242         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

• 

viduals — belonged  exclusively  to  the  States.  Congress 
could  only  recommend — their  acts  were  not  of  binding 
force  till  the  States  had  adopted  and  sanctioned  them. 
Are  we  in  that  condition  still  ?  Are  we  yet  at  the  mercy 
of  State  discretion  and  State  construction  ?  Sir,  if  we 
are,  then  vain  will  be  our  attempt  to  maintain  the  Con 
stitution  under  which  we  sit. 

But,  sir,  the  people  have  wisely  provided,  in  the  Con 
stitution  itself,  a  proper,  suitable  mode  and  tribunal  for 
settling  questions  of  constitutional  law.  There  are,  in  the 
Constitution,  grants  of  powers  to  Congress,  and  restric 
tions  on  those  powers.  There  are  also  prohibitions  on  the 
States.  Some  authority  must  therefore  necessarily  exist, 
having  the  ultimate  jurisdiction  to  fi»  and  ascertain  the 
interpretation  of  these  grants,  restrictions,  and  prohibi 
tions.  The  Constitution  has  itself  pointed  out,  ordained, 
and  established  that  authority.  How  has  it  accomplished 
this  great  and  essential  end?  By  declaring,  sir,  that  "the 
Constitution,  and  the  laws  of  the  United  States,  made  in 
pursuance  thereof,  shall  be  the  supreme  law  of  the  land, 
any  thing  in  the  Constitution  or  laws  of  any  State  to  the 
contrary  notwithstanding.' ' 

This,  sir,  was  the  first  great  step.  By  this,  the  supre 
macy  of  the  Constitution  and  laws  of  the  United  States  is 
declared.  The  people  so  will  it.  No  State  law  is  to  be 
valid  which  comes  in  conflict  with  the  Constitution  or  any 
law  of  the  United  States.  But  who  shall  decide  this  ques 
tion  of  interference  ?  To  whom  lies  the  last  appeal  ?  This, 
sir,  the  Constitution  itself  decides  also,  by  declaring  "that 
the  judicial  power  shall  extend  to  all  cases  arising  under 
the  Constitution  and  laws  of  the  United  /States."  These 
two  provisions,  sir,  cover  the  whole  ground.  They  are,  in 
truth,  the  keystone  of  the  arch.  With  these  it  is  a  Con 
stitution;  without  them  it  is  a  Confederacy.  In  pursuance 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  243 

of  these  clear  and  express  provisions,  Congress  established, 
at  its  very  first  session,  in  the  judicial  act,  a  mode  for  carry 
ing  them  into  full  effect,  and  for  bringing  all  questions 
of  constitutional  power  to  the  final  decision  of  the  Supreme 
Court.  It  then,  sir,  became  a  government.  It  then  had 
the  means  of  self-protection ;  and  but  for  this,  it  would,  in 
all  probability,  have  been  now  among  things  which  are 
passed.  Having  constituted  the  Government,  and  declared 
its  powers,  the  people  have  further  said  that,  since  some 
body  must  decide  on  the  extent  of  these  powers,  the  Govern 
ment  shall  itself  decide — subject  always,  like  other  popular 
governments,  to  its  responsibility  to  the  people.  And  now, 
sir,  I  repeat,  how  is  it  that  a  State  legislature  acquires 
any  right  to  interfere  ?  Who,  or  what,  gives  them  the 
right  to  say  to  the  people,  "  We,  who  are  your  agents  and 
servants  for  one  purpose,  will  undertake  to  decide,  that 
your  other  agents  and  servants,  appointed  by  you  for 
another  purpose,  have  transcended  the  authority  you  gave 
them"  ?  The  reply  would  be,  I  think,  not  impertinent, 
"Who  made  you  a  judge  over  another's  servants?  To 
their  own  masters  they  stand  or  fall." 

Sir,  I  deny  this  power  of  State  legislatures  altogether. 
It  cannot  stand  the  test  of  examination.  Gentlemen  may 
say,  that,  in  an  extreme  case,  a  State  Government  might 
protect  the  people  from  intolerable  oppression.  Sir,  in 
such  a  case  the  people  might  protect  themselves,  without 
the  aid  of  the  State  Governments.  Such  a  case  warrants 
revolution.  It  must  make,  when  it  comes,  a  law  for  itself. 
A  nullifying  act  of  a  State  legislature  cannot  alter  the 
case,  nor  make  resistance  any  more  lawful.  In  maintain 
ing  these  sentiments,  sir,  I  am  but  asserting  the  rights  of 
the  people.  I  state  what  they  have  declared,  and  insist  on 
VrJr  right  to  declare  it.  They  have  chosen  to  repose  this 


244         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

power  in  the  General  Government,  and  I  think  it  my  duty 
to  support  it,  like  other  constitutional  powers. 

For  myself,  sir,  I  doubt  the  jurisdiction  of  South  Caro 
lina,  or  any  other  State,  to  prescribe  my  constitutional 
duty,  or  to  settle,  between  me  and  the  people,  the  validity 
of  laws  of  Congress  for  which  I  have  voted.  I  decline  her 
umpirage.  I  have  not  sworn  to  support  the  Constitution 
according  to  her  construction  of  its  clauses.  I  have  not 
stipulated,  by  my  oath  of  office  or  otherwise,  to  come  under 
any  responsibility,  except  to  the  people  and  those  whom 
they  have  appointed  to  pass  upon  the  question,  whether 
the  laws,  supported  b^  my  votes,  conform  to  the  Constitu 
tion  of  the  country.  And,  sir,  if  we  look  to  the  general 
nature  of  the  case,  could  any  thing  have  been  more  pre 
posterous  than  to  have  made  a  government  for  the  whole 
Union,  and  yet  left  its  powers  subject,  not  to  one  inter 
pretation,  but  to  thirteen  or  twenty-four  interpretations  ? 
Instead  of  one  tribunal,  established  by  all,  responsible  to 
all,  with  power  to  decide  for  all,  shall  constitutional  ques 
tions  be  left  to  four-and-twenty  popular  bodies,  each  at 
liberty  to  decide  for  itself,  and  none  bound  to  respect  the 
decisions  of  others,  and  each  at  liberty,  too,  to  give  a  new 
construction,  on  every  new  election  of  its  own  members  ? 
Would  any  thing,  with  such  a  principle  in  it,  or  rather 
with  such  a  destitution  of  all  principle,  be  fit  to  be  called 
a  government  ?  No,  sir.  It  should  not  be  denominated 
a  Constitution.  It  should  be  called,  rather,  a  collection 
of  topics  for  everlasting  controversy ;  heads  of  debate  for 
a  disputatious  people.  It  would  not  be  a  government.  It 
would  not  be  adequate  to  any  practical  good,  nor  fit  for  any 
country  to  live  under.  To  avoid  all  possibility  of  being 
misunderstood,  allow  me  to  repeat  again,  in  the  fullest 
manner,  that  I  claim  no  powers  for  the  Government  by 
forced  or  unfair  construction.  I  admit  that  it  is  a  govern- 


REPLY   TO   MR.  HAYNH.  245 

ment  of  strictly  limited  powers ;  of  enumerated,  specified, 
and  particularized  powers ;  and  that  whatsoever  is  not 
granted  is  withheld.  But,  notwithstanding  all  this,  and 
however  the  grant  of  powers  may  be  expressed,  its  limits 
and  extent  may  yet,  in  some  cases,  admit  of  doubt ;  and 
the  General  Government  would  be  good  for  nothing,  it 
would  be  incapable  of  long  existence,  if  some  mode  had 
not  been  provided  in  which  those  doubts,  as  they  should 
arise,  might  be  peaceably,  but  authoritatively,  solved. 

And  now,  Mr.  President,  let  me  run  the  honorable  gen 
tleman's  doctrine  a  little  into  its  practical  application.  Let 
us  look  at  his  probable  modus  operandi.  If  a  thing  can 
be  done,  an  ingenious  man  can  tell  how  it  is  to  be  done. 
Now,  I  wish  to  be  informed  how  this  State  interference  is 
to  be  put  in  practice.  We  will  take  the  existing  case  of 
the  tariff-law.  South  Carolina  is  said  to  have  made  up  her 
opinion  upon  it.  If  we  do  not  repeal  it,  (as  we  probably 
shall  not,)  she  will  then  apply  to  the  case  the  remedy  of 
her  doctrine.  She  will,  we  must  suppose,  pass  a  law  of 
her  Legislature,  declaring  the  several  acts  of  Congress, 
usually  called  the  tariff-laws,  null  and  void,  so  far  as  they 
respect  South  Carolina,  or  the  citizens  thereof.  So  far, 
all  is  a  paper  transaction,  and  easy  enough.  But  the  col 
lector  at  Charleston  is  collecting  the  duties  imposed  by 
these  tariff-laws — he,  therefore,  must  be  stopped.  The 
collector  will  seize  the  goods  if  the  tariff-duties  are  not 
paid.  The  State  authorities  will  undertake  their  rescue : 
the  marshal,  with  his  posse,  will  come  to  the  collector's 
aid  ;  and  here  the  contest  begins.  The  militia  of  the  State 
will  be  called  out  to  sustain  the  nullifying  act.  They  will 
march,  sir,  under  a  very  gallant  leader ;  for  I  believe  the 
honorable  member  himself  commands  the  militia  of  that 
part  of  the  State.  He  will  raise  the  NULLIFYING  ACT  on 
liis  standard,  and  spread  it  out  as  his  banner.  It  will  have 

21* 


246  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

a  preamble,  bearing  that  the  tariff-laws  are  palpable,  deli 
berate,  and  dangerous  violations  of  the  Constitution.  He 
v  ill  proceed,  with  his  banner  flying,  to  the  custom-house  in 
Charleston, — 

"  all  the  while 
Sonorous  metal  blowing  martial  sounds." 

Arrived  at  the  custom-house,  he  will  tell  the  collector  that 
he  must  collect  no  more  duties  under  any  of  the  tariff- 
laws.  This  he  will  be  somewhat  puzzled  to  say,  by-the- 
way,  with  a  grave  countenance,  considering  what  hand 
South  Carolina  herself  had  in  that  of  1816.  But,  sir,  the 
collector  would,  probably,  not  desist  at  his  bidding.  Here 
would  ensue  a  pause ;  for  they  say  that  a  certain  stillness 
precedes  the  tempest.  Before  this  military  array  should 
fall  on  the  custom-house,  collector,  clerks,  and  all,  it  is 
very  probable  some  of  those  composing  it  would  request 
of  their  gallant  commander-in-chief  to  be  informed  a  little 
upon  the  point  of  law;  for  they  have  doubtless  a  just 
respect  for  his  opinions  as  a  lawyer,  as  well  as  for  his 
bravery  as  a  soldier.  They  know  he  has  read  Blackstone 
and  the  Constitution,  as  well  as  Turenne  and  Vauban. 
They  would  ask  him,  therefore,  something  concerning  their 
rights  in  this  matter.  They  would  inquire  whether  it  was 
not  somewhat  dangerous  to  resist  a  law  of  the  United 
States.  What  would  be  the  nature  of  their  offence,  they 
would  wish  to  learn,  if  they,  by  military  force  and  array, 
resisted  the  execution  in  Carolina  of  a  law  of  the  United 
States,  and  it  should  turn  out,  after  all,  that  the  law  was 
constitutional  ?  He  would  answer,  of  course,  treason.  No 
lawyer  could  give  any  other  answer.  John  Fries,  he  would 
tell  them,  had  learned  that  some  years  ago.  How,  then, 
they  would  ask.  do  you  propose  to  defend  us  ?  We  are 
not  afraid  of  bullets,  but  treason  has  a  way  of  taking  people 
off  that  we  do  not  much  relish.  How  do  you  propose  to 


REPLY  TO    MR.  HAYNE.  247 

defend  us?  "Look  at  my  floating  banner,"  he  would 
reply:  "see  there  the  nullifying  law !"  Is  it  your  opi 
nion,  gallant  commander,  they  would  then  say,  that  if  we 
should  be  indicted  for  treason,  that  same  floating  banner 
of  yours  would  make  a  good  plea  in  bar  ?  "  South  Caro 
lina  is  a  sovereign  State,"  he  would  reply.  That  is  true; 
but  would  the  judge  admit  our  plea?  "These  tariff-laws," 
he  would  repeat,  "  are  unconstitutional,  palpably,  delibe 
rately,  dangerously."  That  all  may  be  so;  but  if  the 
tribunals  should  not  happen  to  be  of  that  opinion,  shall  we 
swing  for  it  ?  We  are  ready  to  die  for  our  country,  but  it 
is  rather  an  awkward  business,  this  dying  without  touching 
the  ground.  After  all,  this  is  a  sort  of  hemp-t&x,  worse 
than  any  part  of  the  tariff. 

Mr.  President,  the  honorable  gentleman  would  be  in  a 
dilemma  like  that  of  another  great  general.  He  would 
have  a  knot  before  him  which  he  could  not  untie.  He  must 
cut  it  with  his  sword.  He  must  say  to  his  followers,  Defend 
yourselves  with  your  bayonets ;  and  this  is  war — civil  war. 

Direct  collision,  therefore,  between  force  and  force,  is 
the  unavoidable  result  of  that  remedy  for  the  revision  of 
unconstitutional  laws  which  the  gentleman  contends  for. 
It  must  happen  in  the  very  first  case  to  which  it  is  applied. 
Is  not  this  the  plain  result  ?  To  resist,  by  force,  the  execu 
tion  of  a  law,  generally,  is  treason.  Can  the  courts  of  the 
United  States  take  notice  of  the  indulgence  of  a  State  to 
commit  treason?  The  common  saying,  that  a  State  cannot 
commit  treason  herself,  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  Can  it 
authorize  others  to  do  it  ?  If  John  Fries  had  produced  an 
act  of  Pennsylvania,  annulling  the  law  of  Congress,  would 
it  have  helped  his  case  ?  Talk  about  it  as  we  will,  these 
doctrines  go  the  length  of  revolution.  They  are  incom 
patible  with  any  peaceable  administration  of  the  Govern 
ment.  They  lead  directly  to  disunion  and  civil  commotion; 


248  SPEECHES  or  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

and  therefore  it  is,  that  at  the  commencement,  when  they 
are  first  found  to  be  maintained  by  respectable  men,  and  in 
a  tangible  form,  that  I  enter  my  public  protest  against 
them  all. 

The  honorable  gentleman  argues,  that  if  this  Govern 
ment  be  the  sole  judge  of  the  extent  of  its  own  powers, 
whether  that  right  of  judging  be  in  Congress  or  the  Supreme 
Court,  it  equally  subverts  State  sovereignty.  This  the 
gentleman  sees,  or  thinks  he  sees,  although  he  cannot  per 
ceive  how  the  right  of  judging,  in  this  matter,  if  left  to  the 
exercise  of  State  legislatures,  has  any  tendency  to  subvert 
the  Government  of  the  Union.  The  gentleman's  opinion 
may  be  that  the  right  ought  not  to  have  been  lodged  with 
the  General  Government ;  he  may  like  better  such  a  Con 
stitution  as  we  should  have  under  the  right  of  State  inter 
ference  ;  but  I  ask  him  to  meet  me  on  the  plain  matter  of 
fact — I  ask  him  to  meet  me  on  the  Constitution  itself — I 
ask  him  if  the  power  is  not  found  there — clearly  and  visibly 
found  there. 

But,  sir,  what  is  this  danger,  and  what  the  grounds  of 
it  ?  Let  it  be  remembered,  that  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  is  not  unalterable.  It  is  to  continue  in  its 
present  form  no  longer  than  the  people  who  established  it 
shall  choose  to  continue  it.  If  they  shall  become  convinced 
that  they  have  made  an  injudicious  or  inexpedient  partition 
and  distribution  of  power  between  the  State  Governments 
and  the  General  Government,  they  can  alter  that  distribu 
tion  at  will. 

If  any  thing  be  found  in  the  national  Constitution, 
either  by  original  provision  or  subsequent  interpretation, 
which  ought  not  to  be  in  it,  the  people  know  how  to  get  rid 
of  it.  If  any  construction  be  established,  unacceptable  to 
them,  so  as  to  become,  practically,  a  part  of  the  Constitu 
tion,  they  will  amend  it  at  their  own  sovereign  pleasure. 


REPLY   TO    MR.  HAYNE.  249 

But  while  the  people  choose  to  maintain  it  as  it  is,  while 
they  are  satisfied  with  it,  and  refuse  to  change  it,  who  has 
given,  or  who  can  give,  to  the  State  legislatures  a  right  to 
alter  it,  either  by  interference,  construction,  or  otherwise  ? 
Gentlemen  do  not  seem  to  recollect  that  the  people  have  any 
power  to  do  any  thing  for  themselves ;  they  imagine  there 
is  no  safety  for  them  any  longer  than  they  are  under  the 
close  guardianship  of  the  State  legislatures.  Sir,  the 
people  have  not  trusted  their  safety,  in  regard  to  the  gene 
ral  Constitution,  to  these  hands.  They  have  required  other 
security,  and  taken  other  bonds.  They  have  chosen  to 
trust  themselves,  first,  to  the  plain  words  of  the  instrument, 
and  to  such  construction  as  the  Government  itself,  in 
doubtful  cases,  should  put  on  its  own  powers,  under  their 
oaths  of  office,  and  subject  to  their  responsibility  to  them ; 
just  as  the  people  of  a  State  trust  their  own  State  Govern 
ment  with  a  similar  power.  Secondly,  they  have  reposed 
their  trust  in  the  efficacy  of  frequent  elections,  and  in  their 
own  power  to  remove  their  own  servants  and  agents  when 
ever  they  see  cause.  Thirdly,  they  have  reposed  trust  in 
the  judicial  power,  which,  in  order  that  it  might  be  trust 
worthy,  they  have  made  as  respectable,  as  disinterested, 
and  as  independent  as  practicable.  Fourthly,  they  have 
seen  fit  to  rely,  in  case  of  necessity,  or  high  expediency, 
on  their  known  and  admitted  power  to  alter  or  amend  the 
Constitution,  peaceably  and  quietly,  whenever  experience 
shall  point  out  defects  or  imperfections.  And  finally,  the 
people  of  the  United  States  have  at  no  time,  in  no  way, 
directly  or  indirectly,  authorized  any  State  legislature  to 
construe  or  interpret  their  instrument  of  government ; 
much  less  to  interfere,  by  their  own  power,  to  arrest  its 
course  and  operation. 

If,  sir,  the  people,  in  these  respects,  had  done  otherwise 
than  they  have  done,  their  Constitution  could  neither  have 


250  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

been  preserved,  nor  would  it  have  been  worth  preserving. 
And  if  its  plain  provision  shall  now  be  disregarded,  and 
these  new  doctrines  interpolated  in  it,  it  will  become  as 
feeble  and  helpless  a  being  as  enemies,  whether  early  or 
more  recent,  could  possibly  desire.  It  will  exist  in  every 
State,  but  as  a  poor  dependent  on  State  permission.  It 
must  borrow  leave  to  be,  and  will  be,  no  longer  than  State 
pleasure,  or  State  discretion,  sees  fit  to  grant  the  indul 
gence  and  to  prolong  its  poor  existence. 

But,  sir,  although  there  are  fears,  there  are  hopes  also. 
The  people  have  preserved  this,  their  own  chosen  Constitu 
tion,  for  forty  years,  and  have  seen  their  happiness,  pros 
perity,  and  renown  grow  with  its  growth  and  strengthen 
with  its  strength.  They  are  now,  generally,  strongly  at 
tached  to  it.  Overthrown  by  direct  assault  it  cannot  be ; 
evaded,  undermined,  NULLIFIED,  it  will  not  be,  if  we,  and 
those  who  shall  succeed  us  here,  as  agents  and  representa 
tives  of  the  people,  shall  conscientiously  and  vigilantly 
discharge  the  two  great  branches  of  our  public  trust — 
faithfully  to  preserve  and  wisely  to  administer  it. 

Mr.  President,  I  have  thus  stated  the  reasons  of  my 
dissent  to  the  doctrines  which  have  been  advanced  and 
maintained.  I  am  conscious  of  having  detained  you,  and 
the  Senate,  much  too  long.  I  was  drawn  into  the  debate, 
with  no  previous  deliberation  such  as  is  suited  to  the  dis 
cussion  of  so  grave  and  important  a  subject.  But  it  is  a 
subject  of  which  my  heart  is  full,  and  I  have  not  been 
willing  to  suppress  the  utterance  of  its  spontaneous  senti 
ments. 

I  cannot,  even  now,  persuade  myself  to  relinquish  it, 
without  expressing,  once  more,  my  deep  conviction,  that 
since  it  respects  nothing  less  than  the  Union  of  the  States, 
it  is  of  most  vital  and  essential  importance  to  the  public 
happiness.  I  profess,  sir,  in  my  career  hitherto,  to  have 


REPLY   TO    MR.  ITAYNE.  251 

kept  steadily  in  view  the  prosperity  and  honor  of  the 
whole  country,  and  the  preservation  of  our  Federal  Union. 
It  is  to  that  Union  we  owe  our  safety  at  home,  and  our 
consideration  and  dignity  abroad.  It  is  to  that  Union 
that  we  are  chiefly  indebted  for  whatever  makes  us  most 
proud  of  our  country.  That  Union  we  reached  only  by 
the  discipline  of  our  virtues  in  the  severe  school  of  ad 
versity.  /  It  had  its  origin  in  the  necessities  of  disordered 
finance/ prostrate  commerce,  and  ruined  credit.  Under 
its  benign  influences,  these  great  interests  immediately 
awoke,  as  from  the  dead,  and  sprang  forth  with  newness 
of  life.  Every  year  of  its  duration  has  teemed  with  fresh 
proofs  of  its  utility  and  its  blessings  ;  and  although  our 
territory  has  stretched  out  wider  and  wider,  and  our 
population  spread  farther  and  farther,  they  have  not  out 
run  its  protection  or  its  benefits..  It  has  been  to  us  all  a 
copious  fountain  of  national,  social,  personal  happiness. 
I  have  not  allowed  myself,  sir,  to  look  beyond  the  Union, 
to  see  what  might  lie  hidden  in  the  dark  recesses  behind. 
I  have  not  coolly  weighed  the  chances  of  preserving 
liberty,  when  the  bonds  that  unite  us  together  shall  be 
broken  asunder.  I  have  not  accustomed  myself  to  hang 
over  the  precipice  of  disunion,  to  see  whether,  with  my 
short  sight,  I  can  fathom  the  depth  of  the  abyss  below ; 
nor  could  I  regard  him  as  a  safe  counsellor  in  the  affairs 
of  this  Government,  whose  thoughts  should  be  mainly  bent 
on  considering,  not  how  the  Union  should  be  best  pre 
served,  but  how  tolerable  might  be  the  condition  of  the 
people  when  it  shall  be  broken  up  arid  destroyed.  While 
the  Union  lasts,  we  have  high,  exciting,  gratifying  pros 
pects  spread  out  before  us,  for  us  and  •  our  children.  Be 
yond  that  I  seek  not  to  penetrate  the  veil.  God  grant 
that,  in  my  day  at  least,  that  curtain  may  not  rise.  God 
grant  that  on  my  vision  never  may  be  opened  what  lies 


252  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

behind.  When  my  eyes  shall  he  turned  to  behold,  for  the 
last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him  shining  on 
the  broken  and  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once-glorious 
Union ;  on  States  dissevered,  discordant,  belligerent ;  on 
a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in 
fraternal  blood  !  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance, 
rather,  behold  the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  Republic,  now 
known  and  honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high 
advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their  original 
lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  nor  a  single  star 
obscured — bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable  inter 
rogatory  as,  What  is  all  this  worth  ?  nor  those  other 
words  of  delusion  and  folly,  Liberty  first,  and  Union 
afterwards;  but  everywhere,  spread  all  over  in  cha 
racters  of  living  light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as 
they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in  every 
wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  sentiment,  dear 
to  every  true  American  heart, — Liberty  and  Union,  now 
and  forever,  one  and  inseparable ! 


II. 


In  th&  Senate  of  the  United  States,  March  7,  1850,  on  the  Slavery 
Compromise. 


THE  VICE-PRESIDENT.  The  resolutions  submitted  by 
the  Senator  from  Kentucky  were  made  the  special  order 
of  the  day  at  12  o'clock.  On  this  subject  the  Senator 
from  Wisconsin  (Mr.  Walker)  has  the  floor. 

Mr.  WALKER.  Mr.  President,  this  vast  audience  has  not 
assembled  to  hear  me ;  and  there  is  but  one  man,  in  my 
opinion,  who  can  assemble  such  an  audience.  They  expect 
to  hear  him,  and  I  feel  it  to  be  my  duty,  as  well  as  my  plea 
sure,  to  give  the  floor  therefore  to  the  Senator  from  Mas 
sachusetts.  I  understand  it  is  immaterial  to  him  upon 
which  of  these  questions  he  speaks,  and  therefore  I  will 
not  move  to  postpone  the  special  order. 

Mr.  WEBSTER.  I  beg  to  express  my  obligations  to  my 
friend  from  Wisconsin,  (Mr.  Walker,)  as  well  as  to  my 
friend  from  New  York,  (Mr.  Seward.)  for  their  courtesy  in 
allowing  me  to  address  the  Senate  this  morning. 

Mr.  President :  I  wish  to  speak  to-day,  not  as  a  Mas 
sachusetts  man,  nor  as  a  Northern  man,  but  as  an  Ame 
rican,  and  a  member  of  the  Senate  of  the  United  States. 
It  is  fortunate  that  there  is  a  Senate  of  the  United  States ; 
a  body  not  yet  moved  from  its  propriety,  not  lost  to  a  just 
sense  of  its  own  dignity  and  its  own  high  responsibilities, 
and  a  body  to  which  the  country  looks  with  confidence  for 
wise,  moderate,  patriotic,  and  healing  counsels.  It  is  not 

22  25S 


254  SPEECHES   OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

to  be  denied  tliat  we  live  in  the  midst  of  strong  agitations, 
and  are  surrounded  by  very  considerable  dangers  to  our 
institutions  of  government.  The  imprisoned  winds  are  let 
loose.  The  East,  the  West,  the  North,  and  the  stormy 
South,  all  combine  to  throw  the  whole  ocean  into  commo 
tion,  to  toss  its  billows  to  the  skies,  and  to  disclose  its  pro- 
foundest  depths.  I  do  not  affect  to  regard  myself,  Mr. 
President,  as  holding,  or  as  fit  to  hold,  the  helm  in  this 
combat  of  the  political  elements ;  but  I  have  a  duty  to 
perform,  and  I  mean  to  perform  it  with  fidelity — not  with 
out  a  sense  of  surrounding  dangers,  but  not  without  hope. 
I  have  a  part  to  act,  not  for  my  own  security  or  safety,  for 
I  am  looking  out  for  no  fragment  upon  which  to  float  away 
from  the  wreck,  if  wreck  there  must  be,  but  for  the  good 
of  the  whole,  and  the  preservation  of  the  whole  ;  and  there 
is  that  which  will  keep  me  to  my  duty  during  this  struggle, 
whether  the  sun  and  the  stars  shall  appear,  or  shall  not 
appear,  for  many  days.  I  speak  to-day  for  the  preserva 
tion  of  the  Union.  "  Hear  me  for  my  cause."  I  speak 
to-day,  out  of  a  solicitous  and  anxious  heart,  for  the 
restoration  to  the  country  of  that  quiet  and  that  harmony 
which  make  the  blessings  of  this  Union  so  rich  and  so  dear 
to  us  all.  These  are  the  topics  that  I  propose  to  myself  to 
discuss ;  these  are  the  motives,  and  the  sole  motives,  that 
influence  me  in  the  wish  to  communicate  my  opinions  to 
the  Senate  and  the  country ;  and  if  I  can  do  any  thing, 
however  little,  for  the  promotion  of  these  ends,  I  shall  have 
accomplished  all  that  I  desire. 

Mr.  President,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  recur  very  briefly 
to  the  events  which,  equally  sudden  and  extraordinary, 
have  brought  the  political  condition  of  the  country  to  what 
it  now  is.  In  May,  1846,  the  United  States  declared  war 
against  Mexico.  Her  armies,  then  on  the  frontiers,  entered 
the  provinces  of  that  Republic ;  met  and  defeated  all  her 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  256 

troops ;  penetrated  her  mountain-passes,  and  occupied  her 
capital.  The  marine  force  of  the  United  States  tdok  pos 
session  of  her  forts  and  her  towns  on  the  Atlantic  and  on 
the  Pacific.  In  less  than  two  years  a  treaty  was  negotiated, 
by  which  Mexico  ceded  to  the  United  States  a  vast  ter 
ritory,  extending  seven  or  eight  hundred  miles  along  the 
shores  of  the  Pacific,  reaching  back  over  the  mountains, 
and  across  the  desert,  and  until  it  joined  the  frontier  of  the 
State  of  Texas.  It  so  happened  that  in  the  distracted  and 
feeble  state  of  the  Mexican  Government,  before  the  declara 
tion  of  war  by  the  United  States  against  Mexico  had  be 
come  known  in  California,  the  people  of  California,  under 
the  lead  of  American  officers,  overthrew  the  existing  pro 
vincial  Government  of  California — the  Mexican  authorities 
— and  ran  up  an  independent  flag.  When  the  news  arrived 
at  San  Francisco  that  war  had  been  declared  by  the  United 
States  against  Mexico,  this  independent  flag  was  pulled 
down,  and  the  stars  and  stripes  of  this  Union  hoisted  in 
its  stead.  So,  sir,  before  the  war  was  over,  the  powers  of 
the  United  States,  military  and  naval,  had  possession  of 
San  Francisco  and  Upper  California,  and  a  great  rush  of 
emigrants  from  various  parts  of  the  world  took  place  into 
California  in  1846  and  184T.  But  now  behold  another 
wonder. 

In  January  of  1848,  the  Mormons,  it  is  said,  or  some 
of  them,  made  a  discovery  of  an  extraordinary  rich  mine 
of  gold — or,  rather,  of  a  very  great  quantity  of  gold, 
hardly  fit  to  be  called  a  mine,  for  it  was  spread  near  the 
surface — on  the  lower  part  of  the  south  or  American 
branch  of  the  Sacramento.  They  seem  to  have  attempted 
to  conceal  their  discovery  for  some  time ;  but  soon  another 
discovery,  perhaps  of  greater  importance,  was  made  of 
gold,  in  another  part  of  the  American  branch  of  the  Sacra 
mento,  and  near  Sutter's  Fort,  as  it  is  called.  The  fame 


256  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

of  these  discoveries  spread  far  and  wide.  They  excited 
more  and  more  the  spirit  of  emigration  toward  California, 
which  had  already  been  excited ;  and  persons  crowded  in 
hundreds,  and  flocked  toward  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco. 
This,  as  I  have  said,  took  place  in  the  winter  and  spring 
of  1848.  The  digging  commenced  in  the  spring  of  that 
year,  and  from  that  time  to  this  the  work  of  searching  for 
gold  has  been  prosecuted  with  a  success  not  heretofore 
known  in  the  history  of  this  globe.  We  all  know,  sir,  how 
incredulous  the  American  public  was  at  the  accounts  which 
reached  us  at  first  of  these  discoveries  ;  but  we  all  know 
now  that  these  accounts  received,  and  continue  to  receive, 
daily  confirmation  ;  and  down  to  the  present  moment  I 
suppose  tiie  assurances  are  as  strong,  after  the  experience 
of  these  several  months,  of  mines  of  gold  apparently  inex 
haustible  in  the  regions  near  San  Francisco,  in  California, 
as  they  were  at  any  period  of  the  earlier  dates  of  the  ac 
counts.  It  so  happened,  sir,  that  although  in  the  time  of 
peace,  it  became  a  very  important  subject  for  legislative 
consideration  and  legislative  decision  to  provide  a  proper 
territorial  Government  for  California,  yet  differences  of 
opinion  in  the  counsels  of  the  Government  prevented  the 
establishment  of  any  such  territorial  Government  for  Cali 
fornia,  at  the  last  session  of  Congress.  Under  this  state 
of  things,  the  inhabitants  of  San  Francisco  and  California 
— then  amounting  to  a  great  number  of  people — in  the 
summer  of  last  year,  thought  it  to  be  their  duty  to  esta 
blish  a  local  Government.  Under  the  proclamation  of 
General  Riley,  the  people  chose  delegates  to  a  convention : 
that  convention  met  at  Monterey.  They  formed  a  Con 
stitution  for  the  State  of  California,  and  it  was  adopted  by 
the  people  of  California  in  their  primary  assemblages. 
Desirous  of  immediate  connection  with  the  United  States, 
its  Senators  were  appointed  and  representatives  chosen, 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE. 

who  have  come  hither,  bringing  with  them  the  authentic 
Constitution  of  the  State  of  California;  and  they  now 
present  themselves,  asking,  in  behalf  of  their  State,  that 
the  State  may  be  admitted  into  this  Union  as  one  of  the 
United  States.  This  Constitution,  sir,  contains  an  express 
prohibition  against  slavery  or  involuntary  servitude  in  the 
State  of  California.  It  is  said,  and  I  suppose  truly,  that 
of  the  members  who  composed  that  convention,  some  six 
teen  were  natives  and  had  been  residents  of  the  slave- 
holding  States,  about  twenty-two  were  from  the  non-slave- 
holding  States,  and  the  remaining  ten  members  were  either 
native  Californians  or  old  settlers  in  that  country.  This 
prohibition  against  slavery,  it  is  said,  was  inserted  with 
entire  unanimity. 

Mr.  HALE.  Will  the  Senator  give  way  until  order  is 
restored  ? 

The  VICE-PRESIDENT.  The  sergeant-at-arms  will  see 
that  order  is  restored,  and  no  more  persons  admitted  to  the 
floor. 

Mr.  CASS.  I  trust  the  scene  of  the  other  day  will  not 
be  repeated.  The  sergeant-at-arms  must  display  more 
energy  in  suppressing  this  disorder. 

Mr.  HALE.     The  noise  is  outside  of  the  door. 

Mr.  WEBSTER.  And  it  is  this  circumstance,  sir,  the 
prohibition  of  slavery  by  that  convention,  which  has  con 
tributed  to  raise — I  do  not  say  it  has  wholly  raised — the 
dispute  as  to  the  propriety  of  the  admission  of  California 
into  the  Union  under  this  Constitution.  It  is  not  to  be 
denied,  Mr.  President — nobody  thinks  of  denying — that, 
whatever  reasons  were  assigned  at  the  commencement  of 
the  late  war  with  Mexico,  it  was  prosecuted  for  the  pur 
pose  of  the  acquisition  of  territory,  and  under  the  alleged 
argument  that  the  cession  of  territory  was  the  only  form 
in  which  proper  compensation  could  be  made  to  the  United 

22* 


258         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

States  by  Mexico  for  the  various  claims  and  demands 
which  the  people  of  this  country  had  against  that  Govern 
ment.  At  any  rate,  it  will  be  found  that  President  Folk's 
message,  at  the  commencement  of  the  session  of  Decem 
ber,  1847,  avowed  that  the  war  was  to  be  prosecuted  until 
some  acquisition  of  territory  was  made.  And,  as  the  ac 
quisition  was  to  be  south  of  the  line  of  the  United  States, 
in  warm  climates  and  countries,  it  was  naturally,  I  sup 
pose,  expected  by  the  South,  that  whatever  acquisitions 
were  made  in  that  region  would  be  added  to  the  slave- 
holding  portion  of  the  United  States.  Events  turned  out 
as  was  not  expected,  and  that  expectation  has  not  been 
realized ;  and  therefore  some  degree  of  disappointment 
and  surprise  has  resulted,  of  course.  In  other  words,  it  is 
obvious  that  the  question  which  has  so  long  harassed  the 
country,  and  at  some  times  very  seriously  alarmed  the 
minds  of  wise  and  good  men,  has  come  upon  us  for  a 
fresh  discussion, — the  question  of  slavery  in  these  United 
States. 

Now,  sir,  I  propose — perhaps  at  the  expense  of  some 
detail  and  consequent  detention  of  the  Senate — to  review, 
historically,  this  question  of  slavery,  which,  partly  in  con 
sequence  of  its  own  merits,  and  partly,  perhaps  mostly,  in 
the  manner  it  is  discussed  in  one  and  the  other  portion  of 
the  country,  has  been  a  source  of  so  much  alienation  and 
unkind  feeling  between  the  different  portions  of  the  Union. 
We  all  know,  sir,  that  slavery  has  existed  in  the  world 
from  time 'immemorial.  There  was  slavery  in  the  earliest 
periods  of  history,  in  the  Oriental  nations.  There  was 
slavery  among  the  Jews ;  the  theocratic  Government  of 
that  people  made  no  injunction  against  it.  There  was 
slavery  among  the  Greeks ;  and  the  ingenious  philosophy 
of  the  Greeks  found,  or  sought  to  find,  a  justification  for 
it  exactly  upon  the  grounds  which  have  been  assumed  for 


ON  THE  SLAVERY  COMPROMISE.         259 

such  a  justification  in  this  country;  that  is,  a  natural  and 
original  difference  among  the  races  of  mankind,  the  in 
feriority  of  the  black  or  colored  race  to  the  white.  The 
Greeks  justified  their  system  of  slavery  upon  that  ground 
precisely.  They  held  the  African,  and  in  some  parts 
the  Asiatic,  tribes  to  be  inferior  to  the  white  race  ;  but 
they  did  not  show,  I  think,  by  any  close  process  of  logic, 
that,  if  this  were  true,  the  more  intelligent  and  stronger 
had,  therefore,  a  right  to  subjugate  the  weaker. 

The  more  manly  philosophy  and  jurisprudence  of  the 
Romans  placed  the  justification  of  slavery  on  entirely 
different  grounds. 

The  Roman  jurists,  from  the  first,  and  down  to  the  fall 
of  the  Empire,  admitted  that  slavery  was  against  the 
natural  law,  by  which,  as  they  maintained,  all  men,  of 
whatsoever  clime,  color,  or  capacity,  were  equal ;  but  they 
justified  slavery,  first,  upon  the  ground  and  authority  of 
the  law  of  nations — arguing,  and  arguing  truly,  that  at 
that  day  the  conventional  law  of  nations  admitted  that 
captives  in  war,  whose  lives,  according  to  the  notions  of 
the  times,  were  at  the  absolute  disposal  of  the  captors, 
might,  in  exchange  for  exemption  from  death,  be  mad© 
slaves  for  life,  and  that  such  servitude  might  extend  to 
their  posterity.  The  jurists  of  Rome  also  maintained, 
that,  by  the  civil  law,  there  might  be  servitude — slavery, 
personal  and  hereditary ;  first,  by  the  voluntary  act  of 
an  individual  who  might  sell  himself  into  slavery ;  second^ 
by  his  being  received  into  a  state  of  slavery  by  his  credi 
tors  in  satisfaction  of  a  debt ;  and,  thirdly,  by  beiing  placed 
in  a  state  of  servitude  or  slavery  for  crime.  At  the  intro 
duction  of  Christianity  into  the  world,  the  Roman  world 
was  full  of  slaves ;  and  I  suppose  there  is  to  be  found  no 
injunction  against  that  relation  between  man  and  man  in 
the  teachings  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  or  any  of  his 


260  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

apostles.  The  object  of  the  instruction  imparted  to  man 
kind  by  the  Founder  of  Christianity  was  to  touch  the 
heart,  purify  the  soul,  and  improve  the  lives  of  individual 
men.  That  object  went  directly  to  the  first  fountain  of 
all  political  and  all  social  relations  of  the  human  race — 
the  individual  heart  and  mind  of  man. 

Now,  sir,  upon  the  general  nature,  and  character,  and 
influence  of  slavery,  there  exists  a  wide  difference  between 
the  Northern  portion  of  this  country  and  the  Southern. 
It  is  said  on  the  one  side  that,  if  not  the  subject  of  any 
injunction  or  direct  prohibition  in  the  New  Testament, 
slavery  is  a  wrong  ;  that  it  is  founded  merely  in  the  right 
of  the  strongest ;  and  that  it  is  an  oppression,  like  all 
unjust  wars,  like  all  those  conflicts  by  which  a  mighty 
nation  subjects  a  weaker  nation  to  their  will ;  and  that 
slavery,  in  its  nature,  whatever  may  be  said  of  it  in 
modifications  which  have  taken  place,  is  not,  in  fact,  ac 
cording  to  the  meek  spirit  of  the  gospel.  It  is  not  kindly 
affectioned;  it  does  not  "seek  another's,  and  not  its  own.'* 
It  does  not  "let  the  oppressed  go  free."  These  are  sen 
timents  that  are  cherished,  and  recently  with  greatly 
augmented  force,  among  the  people  of  the  Northern 
States.  It  has  taken  hold  of  the  religious  sentiment  of 
that  part  of  the  country,  as  it  has  more  or  less  taken  hold 
of  the  religious  feelings  of  a  considerable  portion  of  man 
kind.  The  South,  upon  the  other  side,  having  been  ac 
customed  to  this  relation  between  the  two  races  all  their 
lives,  from  their  birth — having  been  taught  in  general  to 
treat  the  subjects  of  this  bondage  with  care  and  kindness 
— and  I  believe,  in  general,  feeling  for  them  great  care 
and  kindness — have  yet  not  taken  this  view  of  the  subject 
which  I  have  mentioned.  There  are  thousands  of  religious 
men,  with  consciences  as  tender  as  any  of  their  brethren 
at  the  North,  who  do  not  see  the  unlawfulness  of  slavery ; 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  261 

and  there  are  more  thousands,  perhaps,  that,  whatsoever 
they  may  think  of  it  in  its  origin,  and  as  a  matter  de 
pending  upon  natural  right,  yet  take  things  as  they  are, 
and,  finding  slavery  to  be  an  established  relation  of  the 
society  in  which  they  live,  can  see  no  way  in  which — let 
their  opinions  on  the  abstract  question  be  what  they  may 
— it  is  in  the  power  of  the  present  generation  to  relieve 
themselves  from  this  relation.  And  in  this  respect  candor 
obliges  me  to  say,  that  I  believe  they  are  just  as  con 
scientious,  many  of  them,  and  of  the  religious  people  all 
of  them,  as  they  are  in  the  North  in  holding  different 
opinions. 

Why,  sir,  the  honorable  Senator  from  South  Carolina, 
the  other  day,  alluded  to  the  separation  of  that  great 
religious  community,  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
That  separation  was  brought  about  by  differences  of  opi 
nion  upon  this  peculiar  subject  of  slavery.  I  felt  great 
concern,  as  that  dispute  went  on,  about  the  result,  and  I 
was  in  hopes  that  the  differences  of  opinion  might  be  ad 
justed,  because  I  looked  upon  that  religious  denomination 
as  one  of  the  great  props  of  religion  and  morals  through 
out  the  whole  country,  from  Maine  to  Georgia.  The 
result  was  against  my  wishes  and  against  my  hopes.  I 
have  read  all  their  proceedings,  and  all  their  arguments, 
but  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  there  was  any  real  ground  for  that  separation ;  in 
other  words,  that  no  good  could  be  produced  by  that 
separation.  I  must  say  I  think  there  was  some  want  of 
candor  and  charity.  Sir,  when  a  question  of  this  kind 
takes  hold  of  the  religious  sentiments  of  mankind,  and 
comes  to  be  discussed  in  religious  assemblies  of  the  clergy 
and  laity,  there  is  always  to  be  expected,  or  always  to  be 
feared,  a  great  degree  of  excitement.  It  is  in  the  nature 
of  man,  manifested  by  his  whole  history,  that  religious 


262  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

disputes  are  apt  to  become  warm,  and  men's  strength  of 
conviction  is  proportionate  to  their  views  of  the  magnitude 
of  the  questions.  In  all  such  disputes  there  will  some 
times  men  be  found  with  whom  every  thing  is  absolute — 
absolutely  wrong,  or  absolutely  right.  They  see  the  right 
clearly ;  they  think  others  ought  to  see  it,  and  they  are 
disposed  to  establish  a  broad  line  of  distinction  between 
what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong.  And  they  are  not 
seldom  willing  to  establish  that  line  upon  their  own  con 
victions  of  the  truth  and  the  justice  of  their  own  opinions  • 
and  are  willing  to  mark  and  guard  that  line,  by  placing 
along  it  a  series  of  dogmas,  as  lines  of  boundary  are 
marked  by  posts  and  stones.  There  are  men  who,  with 
clear  perceptions,  as  they  think,  of  their  own  duty,  do 
not  see  how  too  hot  a  pursuit  of  one  duty  may  involve 
them  in  the  violation  of  others,  or  how  too  warm  an  em- 
bracement  of  one  truth  may  lead  to  a  disregard  of  other 
truths  equally  important.  As  I  heard  it  stated  strongly, 
not  many  days  ago,  these  persons  are  disposed  to  mount 
upon  some  particular  duty  as  upon  a  war-horse,  and  to 
drive  furiously  on,  and  upon,  and  over  all  other  duties 
that  may  stand  in  the  way.  There  are  men  who,  in  times 
of  that  sort,  and  disputes  of  that  sort,  are  of  opinion  that 
human  duties  may  be  ascertained  with  the  exactness  of 
mathematics.  They  deal  with  morals  as  with  mathematics, 
and  they  think  what  is  right  may  be  distinguished  from 
what  is  wrong  with  the  precision  of  an  algebraic  equation. 
They  have,  therefore,  none  too  much  charity  toward  others 
who  differ  from  them.  They  are  apt,  too,  to  think  that 
nothing  is  good  but  what  is  perfect,  and  that  there  are  no 
compromises  or  modifications  to  be  made  in  submission  to 
difference  of  opinion,  or  in  deference  to  other  men's  judg 
ment.  If  their  perspicacious  vision  enables  them  to  detect 
a  spot  on  the  face  of  the  sun,  they  think  that  a  good 


ON  THE  SLAVERY  COMPROMISE.         263 

reason  why  the  sun  should  be  struck  down  from  heaven. 
They  prefer  the  chance  of  running  into  utter  darkness,  to 
living  in  heavenly  light,  if  that  heavenly  light  be  not  ab 
solutely  without  any  imperfection.  There  are  impatient 
men — too  impatient  always  to  give  heed  to  the  admonition 
of  St.  Paul,  "  that  we  are  not  to  do  evil  that  good  may 
come" — too  impatient  to  wait  for  the  slow  progress  of 
moral  causes,  in  the  improvement  of  mankind.  They  do 
not  remember,  that  the  doctrines  and  the  miracles  of  Jesus 
Christ  have,  in  eighteen  hundred  years,  converted  only  a 
small  portion  of  the  human  race ;  and  among  the  nations 
that  are  converted  to  Christianity,  they  forget  how  many 
vices  and  crimes,  public  and  private,  still  prevail,  and  that 
many  of  them — public  crimes  especially,  which  are  offences 
against  the  Christian  religion — pass  without  exciting  par 
ticular  regret  or  indignation.  Thus  wars  are  waged,  and 
unjust  wars.  I  do  not  deny  that  there  may  be  just  wrars. 
There  certainly  are ;  but  it  was  the  remark  of  an  eminent 
person,  not  many  years  ago,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Atlantic,  that  it  was  one  of  the  greatest  reproaches  to 
human  nature  that  wars  were  sometimes  necessary.  The 
defence  of  nations  sometimes  causes  a  war  against  the 
injustice  of  other  nations. 

Now,  sir,  in  this  state  of  sentiment  upon  the  general 
nature  of  slavery,  lies  the  cause  of  a  great  portion  of 
those  unhappy  divisions,  exasperations,  and  reproaches 
which  find  vent  and  support  in  different  parts  of  the 
Union.  Slavery  does  exist  in  the  United  States.  It  did 
exist  in  the  States  before  the  adoption  of  this  Constitu 
tion,  and  at  that  time. 

And  now  let  us  consider,  sir,  for  a  moment,  what  was 
the  state  of  sentiment,  North  and  South,  in  regard  to 
slavery,  at  the  time  this  Constitution  was  adopted.  A 
remarkable  change  has  taken  place  since  ;  but  what  did 


SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

the  wise  and  great  men  of  all  parts  of  the  country  think 
of  slavery  ? — in  what  estimation  did  they  hold  it  then, 
when  this  Constitution  was  adopted  ?  Now,  it  will  be 
found,  sir,  if  we  will  carry  ourselves  by  historical  research 
back  to  that  day,  and  ascertain  men's  opinions  by  authentic 
records  still  existing  among  us,  that  there  was  no  great 
diversity  of  opinion  between  the  North  and  the  South  upon 
the  subject  of  slavery ;  and  it  will  be  found  that  both 
parts  of  the  country  held  it  equally  an  evil — a  moral  and 
political  evil.  It  will  not  be  found  that  either  at  the 
North  or  at  the  South  there  was  much,  though  there  was 
some,  invective  against  slavery,  as  inhuman  and  cruel. 
The  great  ground  of  objection  to  it  was  political ;  that  it 
weakened  the  social  fabric ;  that,  taking  the  place  of  free 
labor,  society  was  less  strong  and  labor  was  less  produc 
tive  ;  and,  therefore,  we  find,  from  all  the  eminent  men 
of  the  time,  the  clearest  expression  of  their  opinion  that 
slavery  was  an  evil.  And  they  ascribed  its  existence  here, 
not  without  truth,  and  not  without  some  acerbity  of  temper 
and  force  of  language,  to  the  injurious  policy  of  the 
mother-country,  who,  to  favor  the  navigator,  had  entailed 
these  evils  upon  the  colonies.  I  need  hardly  refer,  sir,  to 
the  publications  of  the  day.  They  are  matters  of  history 
on  the  record.  The  eminent  men,  the  most  eminent  men, 
and  nearly  all  the  conspicuous  politicians  of  the  South, 
held  the  same  sentiments ;  that  slavery  was  an  evil,  a 
blight,  a  blast,  a  mildew,  a  scourge,  and  a  curse.  There 
are  no  terms  of  reprobation  of  slavery  so  vehement  in 
the  North  of  that  day  as  in  the  South.  The  North  was 
not  so  much  excited  against  it  as  the  South,  and  the  reason 
is,  I  suppose,  because  there  was  much  less  at  the  North, 
and  the  people  did  not  see,  or  think  they  saw,  the  evils  so 
prominently  as  they  were  seen,  or  thought  to  be  seen,  at 
the  South. 


ON    THE    SLAVERY    COMPROMISE.  266 

Then,  sir,  when  this  Constitution  was  framed,  this  was 
the  light  in  which  the  convention  viewed  it.  The  conven 
tion  reflected  the  judgment  arid  sentiments  of  the  great 
men  of  the  South.  A  member  of  the  other  House,  whom 
I  have  not  the  honor  to  know,  in  a  recent  speech,  has  col 
lected  extracts  from  these  public  documents.  They  prove 
the  truth  of  what  I  am  saying,  and  the  question  then  was, 
how  to  deal  with  it,  and  how  to  deal  with  it  as  an  evil. 
Well,  they  came  to  this  general  result.  They  thought 
that  slavery  could  not  be  continued  in  the  country,  if  the 
importation  of  slaves  were  made  to  cease,  and  therefore 
they  provided  that  after  a  certain  period  the  importation 
might  be  prevented  by  the  act  of  the  new  Government. 
Twenty  years  were  proposed  by  some  gentleman, — a 
Northern  gentleman,  I  think, — and  many  of  the  Southern 
gentlemen  opposed  it  as  being  too  long.  Mr.  Madison 
especially  was  something  warm  against  it.  He  said  it 
would  bring  too  much  of  this  mischief  into  the  country  to 
allow  the  importation  of  slaves  for  such  a  period.  Because 
we  must  take  along  with  us,  in  the  whole  of  this  discussion, 
when  we  are  considering  the  sentiments  and  opinions  in 
which  this  constitutional  provision  originated,  that  the  con 
viction  of  all  men  was,  that,  if  the  importation  of  slaves 
ceased,  the  white  race  would  multiply  faster  than  the  black 
race,  and  that  slavery  would  therefore  gradually  wear  out 
and  expire.  It  may  not  be  improper  here  to  allude  to 
that,  I  had  almost  said,  celebrated  opinion  of  Mr.  Madison. 
You  observe,  sir,  that  the  term  "slave"  or  "slavery"  is 
not  used  in  the  Constitution.  The  Constitution  does  not 
require  that  "fugitive  slaves"  shall  be  delivered  up.  It 
requires  that  "  persons  bound  to  service  in  one  State,  and 
escaping  into  another,  shall  be  delivered  up."  Mr.  Madison 
opposed  the  introduction  of  the  term  "  slave"  or  "  slavery" 
into  the  Constitution ;  for  he  said  that  he  did  not  wish  to 

23 


266  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

see  it  recognised  by  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States 
of  America,  that  there  could  be  property  in  men.  Now, 
sir,  all  this  took  place  at  the  convention  in  1787 ;  but  con 
nected  with  this — concurrent  and  contemporaneous — is 
another  important  transaction  not  sufficiently  attended  to. 
The  convention  for  framing  this  Constitution  assembled  in 
Philadelphia  in  May,  and  sat  until  September,  1787. 
During  all  that  time  the  Congress  of  the  United  States 
was  in  session  at  New  York.  It  was  a  matter  of  design, 
as  we  know,  that  the  convention  should  not  assemble  in 
the  same  city  where  Congress  was  holding  its  sessions. 
Almost  all  the  public  men  of  the  country,  therefore,  of 
distinction  and  eminence,  were  in  one  or  the  other  of  these 
two  assemblies ;  and  I  think  it  happened  in  some  instances 
that  the  same  gentlemen  were  members  of  both.  If  I 
mistake  not,  such  was  the  case  of  Mr.  Rufus  King,  then  a 
member  of  Congress  from  Massachusetts,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  member  of  the  convention  to  frame  the  Constitution 
from  that  State.  Now,  it  was  in  the  summer  of  1787,  the 
very  time  when  the  convention  in  Philadelphia  was  framing 
this  Constitution,  that  the  Congress  in  New  York  was 
framing  the  ordinance  of  1787.  They  passed  that  ordinance 
on  the  13th  of  July,  1787,  at  New  York,  the  very  month, 
perhaps  the  very  day,  on  which  these  questions  about  the 
importation  of  slaves  and  the  character  of  slavery  were 
debated  in  the  convention  at  Philadelphia.  And,  so  far  as 
we  can  now  learn,  there  was  a  perfect  concurrence  of 
opinion  between  these  respective  bodies  ;  and  it  resulted  in 
this  ordinance  of  1787,  excluding  slavery  as  applied  to  all 
the  territory  over  which  the  Congress  of  the  United  States 
had  jurisdiction,  and  that  was  all  the  territory  northwest 
of  the  Ohio.  Three  years  before,  .Virginia  and  other 
States  had  made  a  cession  of  that  great  territory  to  the 
United  States.  And  a  most  magnificent  act  it  was.  I 


ON   THE   SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  267 

never  reflect  upon  it  without  a  disposition  to  do  honor  and 
justice — and  justice  would  be  the  highest  honor — to  Vir 
ginia  for  that  act  of  cession  of  her  northwestern  territory. 
I  will  say,  sir,  it  is  one  of  her  fairest  claims  to  the  respect 
and  gratitude  of  the  United  States,  and  that  perhaps  it  is 
only  second  to  that  other  claim  which  attaches  to  her — 
that,  from  her  counsels,  and  from  the  intelligence  and 
patriotism  of  her  leading  statesmen,  proceeded  the  first 
idea  put  into  practice  for  the  formation  of  a  general  Con 
stitution  of  the  United  States.  Now,  sir,  the  ordinance 
of  1787  applied  thus  to  the  whole  territory  over  which  the 
Congress  of  the  United  States  had  jurisdiction.  It  was 
adopted  nearly  three  years  before  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  went  into  operation,  because  the  ordinance 
took  effect  immediately  on  its  passage ;  while  the  Constitu 
tion  of  the  United  States,  having  been  framed,  was  to  be 
sent  to  the  States  to  be  adopted  by  their  conventions,  and 
then  a  government  had  to  be  organized  under  it.  This 
ordinance,  then,  was  in  operation  and  force  when  the  Con 
stitution  was  adopted,  and  this  Government  put  in  motion, 
in  April,  1789. 

Mr.  President,  three  things  are  quite  clear  as  historical 
truths.  One  is,  that  there  was  an  expectation  that  on  the 
ceasing  of  the  importation  of  slaves  from  Africa,  slavery 
would  begin  to  run  out.  That  was  hoped  and  expected. 
Another  is,  that,  as  far  as  there  was  any  power  in  Congress 
to  prevent  the  spread  of  slavery  in  the  United  States,  that 
power  was  executed  in  the  most  absolute  manner,  and  to 
the  fullest  extent.  An  honorable  member  whose  health 
does  not  allow  him  to  be  here  to-day — 

A  SENATOR.     He  is  here.     (Referring  to  Mr.  Calhoun.) 

Mr.  WEBSTER.     I  am  very  happy  to  hear  that  he  is ; 

may.  he  long  be  in  health  and  the  enjoyment  of  it  to  serve 

his  country — said,  the  other  day,  that  he  considered  this 


268         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

ordinance  as  the  first  in  the  series  of  measures  calculated 
to  enfeeble  the  South,  and  deprive  them  of  their  just  par 
ticipation  in  the  benefits  and  privileges  of  this  Government. 
He  says  very  properly  that  it  was  done  under  the  old  Con 
federation,  and  before  this  Constitution  went  into  effect ; 
but  my  present  purpose  is  only  to  say,  Mr.  President,  that 
it  was  done  with  the  entire  and  unanimous  concurrence  of 
the  whole  South.  Why,  there  it  stands  !  The  vote  of 
every  State  in  the  Union  was  unanimous  in  favor  of  the 
ordinance,  with  the  exception  of  a  single  individual  vote, 
and  that  individual  was  a  Northern  man.  But,  sir,  the 
ordinance  abolishing  or  rather  prohibiting  slavery  north 
west  of  the  Ohio  has  the  hand  and  seal  of  every  Southern 
member  in  Congress.  The  other  and  third  clear  historical 
truth  is,  that  the  convention  meant  to  leave  slavery,  in  the 
States,  as  they  found  it,  entirely  under  the  control  of  the 
States. 

This  was  the  state  of  things,  sir,  and  this  the  state  of 
opinion,  under  which  those  very  important  matters  were 
arranged,  and  those  two  important  things  done ;  that  is, 
the  establishment  of  the  Constitution,  with  a  recognition 
of  slavery  as  it  existed  in  the  States,  and  the  establishment 
of  the  ordinance,  prohibiting,  to  the  full  extent  of  all  ter 
ritory  owned  by  the  United  States,  the  introduction  of 
slavery  into  those  territories,  and  the  leaving  to  the  States 
all  power  over  slavery,  in  their  own  limits.  And  here,  sir, 
we  may  pause.  We  may  reflect  for  a  moment  upon  the 
entire  coincidence  and  concurrence  of  sentiment  between 
the  North  and  the  South  upon  these  questions  at  the  period 
of  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution.  But  opinions,  sir, 
have  changed — greatly  changed — changed  North  and 
changed  South.  Slavery  is  not  regarded  in  the  South 
now  as  it  was  then.  I  see  an  honorable  member  of  this 
body  paying  me  the  honor  of  listening  to  my  remarks ;  he 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  26S 

brings  to  me,  sir,  freshly  and  vividly,  the  sentiments  of  his 
great  ancestor,  so  much  distinguished  in  his  day  and  gene 
ration,  so  worthy  to  be  succeeded  by  so  worthy  a  grandson, 
with  all  the  sentiments  he  expressed  in  the  convention  of 
Philadelphia. 

Here  we  may  pause.  There  was,  if  not  an  entire 
unanimity,  a  general  concurrence  of  sentiment,  running 
through  the  whole  community,  and  especially  entertained 
by  the  eminent  men  of  all  portions  of  the  country.  But 
soon  a  change  began  at  the  North  and  the  South,  and  a, 
severance  of  opinion  showed  itself — the  North  growing 
much  more  warm  and  strong  against  slavery,  and  the  South 
growing  much  more  warm  and  strong  in  its  support.  Sir, 
there  is  no  generation  of  mankind  whose  opinions  are  not 
subject  to  be  influenced  by  what  appears  to  them  to  be  their 
present,  emergent,  selfish,  and  exigent  interest.  I  impute 
to  the  South  no  particular  selfish  view  in  the  change  which 
has  come  over  her.  I  impute  to  her  certainly  no  dishonest 
view.  All  that  has  happened  has  been  natural.  It  has 
followed  those  causes  which  always  influence  the  human 
mind  and  operate  upon  it.  What,  then,  have  been  the 
causes  which  have  created  so  new  a  feeling  in  favor  of 
slavery  in  the  South — which  have  changed  the  whole 
nomenclature  of  the  South  on  the  subject — and  from  being 
thought  of  and  described  in  the  terms  I  have  mentioned 
and  will  not  repeat,  it  has  now  become  an  institution,  a 
cherished  institution,  in  that  quarter ;  no  evil,  no  scourge, 
but  a  great  religious,  social,  and  moral  blessing,  as  I  think 
I  have  heard  it  latterly  described  ?  I  suppose  this,  sir,  13 
owing  to  the  sudden  uprising  and  rapid  growth  of  the 
cotton-plantations  of  the  South.  So  far  as  any  motive  of 
honor,  justice,  and  general  judgment  could  act,  it  was  the 
cotton-interest  that  gave  a  new  desire  to, promote  slavery, 
to  spread  it,  and  to  use  its  labor.  I  again  say  that  that 

*. 


27C  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

was  produced  by  the  causes  which  we  must  always  expect 
to  produce  like  effects ;  their  whole  interest  became  con 
nected  with  it.  If  we  look  back  to  the  history  of  the 
commerce  of  this  country,  at  the  early  years  of  this  Go 
vernment,  what  were  our  exports  ?  Cotton  was  hardly,  or 
but  to  a  very  limited  extent,  known.  The  tables  will  sho^W 
that  the  exports  of  cotton  for  the  years  1790  and  '91  were 
not  more  than  forty  or  fifty  thousand  dollars  a  year.  It 
has  gone  on  increasing  rapidly,  until  it  may  now,  perhaps, 
in  a  season  of  great  product  and  high  prices,  amount  to  a 
hundred  millions  of  dollars.  In  the  years  I  have  men 
tioned  there  was  more  of  wax,  more  of  indigo,  more  of 
rice,  more  of  almost  every  article  of  export  from  the 
South,  than  of  cotton.  I  think  I  have  heard  it  said,  when 
Mr.  Jay  negotiated  the  treaty  of  1794  with  England,  he 
did  not  know  that  cotton  was  exported  at  all  from  the 
United  States ;  and  I  have  heard  it  said  that,  after  the 
treaty  which  gave  to  the  United  States  the  right  to  carry 
their  own  commodities  to  England,  in  their  own  ships,  the 
custom-house  in  London  refused  to  admit  cotton,  upon  an 
allegation  that  it  could  not  be  an  American  production, 
there  being,  as  they  supposed,  no  cotton  raised  in  America. 
They  would  hardly  think  so  now ! 

Well,  sir,  we  know  what  followed.  The  age  of  cotton 
became  a  golden  age  for  our  Southern  brethren.  It  grati 
fied  their  desire  for  improvement  and  accumulation  at  the 
same  time  that  it  excited  it.  The  desire  grew  by  what  it 
fed  upon,  and  there  soon  came  to  be  an  eagerness  for  other 
territory,  a  new  area,  or  new  areas,  for  the  cultivation  of 
the  cotton-crop,  and  measures  leading  to  this  result  were 
brought  about,  rapidly,  one  after  another,  under  the  lead 
of  Southern  men  at  the  head  of  the  Government,  they 
having  a  majority  in  both  branches  to  accomplish  their 
ends.  The  honorable  member  from  Carolina  observed  that 


ON  THE  SLAVERY  COMPROMISE.         271 

there  has  been  a  majority  all  along  in  favor  of  the  North. 
If  that  be  true,  sir,  the  North  has  acted  either  very  libe 
rally  and  kindly,  or  very  weakly ;  for  they  never  exercised 
that  majority  five  times  in  the  history  of  the  Government. 
Never.  Whether  they  were  outgeneralled,  or  whether  it 
was  owing  to  other  causes,  I  shall  not  stop  to  consider ; 
but  no  man  acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  country  can 
deny,  that  the  general  lead  in  the  politics  of  the  country 
for  three-fourths  of  the  period  that  has  elapsed  since  the 
adoption  of  the  Constitution  has  been  a  Southern  lead.  In 
1802,  in  pursuit  of  the  idea  of  opening  a  new  cotton-region, 
the  United  States  obtained  a  cession  from  Georgia  of  the 
whole  of  her  western  territory,  now  embracing  the  rich  and 
growing  State  of  Alabama.  In  1803  Louisiana  was  pur 
chased  from  France,  out  of  which  the  States  of  Louisiana, 
Arkansas,  and  Missouri  have  been  framed,  as  slaveholding 
States.  In  1819  the  cession  of  Florida  was  made,  bring 
ing  another  cession  of  slaveholding  property  arid  territory. 
Sir,  the  honorable  member  from  South  Carolina  thought 
he  saw  in  certain  operations  of  the  Government,  such  as  the 
manner  of  collecting  the  revenue  and  the  tendency  of  those 
measures  to  promote  emigration  into  the  country,  what 
accounts  for  the  more  rapid  growth  of  the  North  than  the 
South.  He  thinks  that  more  rapid  growth,  not  the  opera 
tion  of  time,  but  of  the  system  of  Government  established 
under  this  Constitution.  That  is  a  matter  of  opinion.  To 
a  certain  extent  it  may  be  so ;  but  it  does  seem  to  me  that 
if  any  operation  of  the  Government  could  be  shown  in  any 
degree  to  have  promoted  the  population,  and  growth,  and 
wealth  of  the  North,  it  is  much  more  sure  that  there  are 
sundry  important  and  distinct  operations  of  the  Govern 
ment,  about  which  no  man  can  doubt,  tending  to  promote, 
and  which  absolutely  have  promoted,  the  increase  of  the 
slave  interest  and  the  slave  territory  of  the  South.  Allow 


272  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

me  to  say  that  it  was  not  time  that  brought  in  Louisiana ; 
it  was  the  act  of  men.  It  was  not  time  that  brought  in 
Florida ;  it  was  the  act  of  men.  And  lastly,  sir,  to  com 
plete  those  acts  of  men,  which  have  contributed  so  much  to 
enlarge  the  area  and  the  sphere  of  the  institution  of  slavery, 
Texas,  great,  and  vast,  and  illimitable  Texas,  was  added  to 
the  Union,  as  a  slave  State,  in  1845 ;  and  that,  sir,  pretty 
much  closed  the  whole  chapter,  and  settled  the  whole  ac 
count.  That  closed  the  whole  chapter — that  settled  the 
whole  account,  because  the  annexation  of  Texas,  upon  the 
conditions  and  under  the  guarantees  upon  which  she  was 
admitted,  did  not  leave  an  acre  of  land,  capable  of  being 
cultivated  by  slave-labor,  between  this  Capitol  and  the  Rio 
Grande  or  the  Nueces,  or  whatever  is  the  proper  boundary 
of  Texas — not  an  acre,  not  -one.  From  that  moment,  the 
whole  country,  from  this  place  to  the  western  boundary  of 
Texas,  was  fixed,  pledged,  fastened,  decided,  to  be  slave 
territory  forever,  by  the  solemn  guarantees  of  law.  And  I 
now  say,  sir,  as  the  proposition  upon  which  I  stand  this 
day,  and  upon  the  truth  and  firmness  of  which  I  intend  to 
act  until  it  is  overthrown,  that  there  is  not  at  this  moment 
within  the  United  States,  or  any  territory  of  the  United 
States,  a  single  foot  of  land,  the  character  of  which,  in 
regard  to  its  being  freesoil  territory  or  slave  territory,  is 
not  fixed  by  some  law,  and  some  irrepealable  law,  beyond 
the  power  of  the  action  of  this  Government.  Now,  is  it 
not  so  with  respect  to  Texas  ?  Why,  it  is  most  manifestly 
so.  The  honorable  member  from  South  Carolina,  at  the 
time  of  the  admission  of  Texas,  held  an  important  post  in 
the  Executive  department  of  the  Government ;  he  was 
Secretary  of  State.  Another  eminent  person  of  great 
activity  and  adroitness  in  affairs,  I  mean  the  late  Secretary 
of  the  Treasury,  (Mr.  Walker,)  was  a  leading  member  of 
this  body,  and  took  the  lead  in  the  business  of  annexation ; 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE. 

and  I  must  say  they  did  their  business  faithfully  and 
thoroughly  ;  there  was  no  botch  left  in  it.  They  rounded 
it  off,  and  made  as  close  joiner-work  as  ever  was  put 
together.  Resolutions  of  annexation  were  brought  into 
Congress  fitly  joined  together — compact,  firm,  efficient, 
conclusive  upon  the  great  object  which  they  had  in  view ; 
and  those  resolutions  passed. 

Allow  me  to  read  the  resolution.  It  is  the  third  clause 
of  the  second  section  of  the  resolution  of  the  1st  of 
March,  1845,  for  the  admission  of  Texas,  which  applies  to 
this  part  of  the  case.  That  clause  reads  in  these  words  : 

"  New  States,  of  convenient  size,  not  exceeding  four  in 
number,  in  addition  to  said  State  of  Texas,  and  having 
sufficient  population,  may  hereafter,  by  the  consent  of 
said  State,  be  formed  out  of  the  territory  thereof,  which 
shall  be  entitled  to  admission  under  the  provisions  of  the 
Federal  Constitution.  And  such  States  as  may  be  formed 
out  of  that  portion  of  said  territory  lying  south  of  36° 
30'  north  latitude,  commonly  known  as  the  Missouri  com 
promise  line,  shall  be  admitted  into  the  Union  with  or 
without  slavery,  as  the  people  of  each  State  asking  ad 
mission  may  desire ;  and  in  such  State  or  States  as  shall 
be  formed  out  of  said  territory  north  of  said  Missouri 
compromise  line,  slavery  or  involuntary  servitude  (except 
for  crime)  shall  be  prohibited." 

Now,  what  is  here  stipulated,  enacted,  secured  ?  It  is, 
that  all  Texas  south  of  36°  30',  which  is  nearly  the  whole 
of  it,  shall  be  admitted  into  the  Union  as  a  slave  State. 
It  was  a  slave  State,  and  therefore  came  in  as  a  slave 
State ;  and  the  guarantee  is  that  new  States  shall  be  made 
out  of  it,  and  that  such  States  as  are  formed  out  of  that 
portion  of  Texas  lying  south  of  36°  30'  may  come  in  as 
slave  States  to  the  number  of  four,  in  addition  to  the 
State  then  in  existence,  and  admitted  at  that  time  by 


274  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

these  resolutions.  I  know  no  form  of  legislation  which 
can  strengthen  that.  I  know  no  mode  of  recognition  that 
k^an  add  a  tittle  of  weight  to  it.  I  listened  respectfully  to  the 
resolution  of  my  honorable  friend  from  Tennessee  (Mr.  Bell). 
He  proposed  to  recognise  that  stipulation  with  Texas.  But 
any  additional  recognition  would  weaken  the  force  of  it,  be 
cause  it  stands  here  on  the  ground  of  a  contract,  a  thing 
done  for  a  consideration.  It  is  a  law  founded  on  a  con 
tract  with  Texas,  and  designed  to  carry  that  contract  into 
effect.  A  recognition  founded  not  on  any  consideration 
or  any  contract  would  not  be  so  strong  as  it  now  stands 
on  the  face  of  the  resolution.  Now,  I  know  no  way,  I 
candidly  confess,  in  which  this  Government,  acting  in  good 
faith,  as  I  trust  it  always  will,  can  relieve  itself  from  that 
stipulation  arid  pledge,  by  any  honest  course  of  legislation 
whatever.  And,  therefore,  I  say  again  that,  so  far  as 
Texas  is  concerned — the  whole  of  Texas  south  of  36°  30', 
which  I  suppose  embraces  all  the  slave  territory — there  is 
no  land,  not  an  acre,  the  character  of  which  is  not  esta 
blished  by  law,  a  law  which  cannot  be  repealed  without 
the  violation  of  a  contract,  and  plain  disregard  of  the 
public  faith. 

I  hope,  sir,  it  is  now  apparent  that  my  proposition,  so 
far  as  Texas  is  concerned,  has  been  maintained ;  and  the 
provision  in  this  article — and  it  has  been  well  suggested 
by  my  friend  from  Rhode  Island  that  that  part  of  Texas 
which  lies  north  of  34°  of  north  latitude  may  be  formed 
into  free  States — is  dependent,  in  like  manner,  upon  the 
consent  of  Texas,  herself  a  slave  State. 

Well,  now,  sir,  how  came  this  ?  How  came  it  that 
within  these  walls,  where  it  is  said  by  the  honorable  mem 
ber  from  South  Carolina,  that  the  free  States  have  a 
majority,  this  resolution  of  annexation,  such  as  I  have  de 
scribed  it,  found  a  majority  in  both  Houses  of  Congress? 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  275 

Why,  sir,  it  found  that  majority  by  the  great  addition  of 
Northern  votes  added  to  the  entire  Southern  vote,  or,  at 
least,  nearly  the  whole  of  the  Southern  votes.  That  ma 
jority  was  made  up  of  Northern  as  well  as  of  Southern 
votes.  In  the  House  of  Representatives  it  stood,  I  think, 
about  eighty  Southern  votes  for  the  admission  of  Texas, 
and  about  fifty  Northern  votes  for  the  admission  of  Texas. 
In  the  Senate  the  vote  stood  for  the  admission  of  Texas, 
twenty-seven,  and  twenty-five  against  it  ;  and  of  those 
twenty-seven  votes,  constituting  a  majority  for  the  admis 
sion  of  Texas  in  this  body,  no  less  than  thirteen  of  them 
came  from  the  free  States — four  of  them  were  from  New 
England.  The  whole  of  these  thirteen  Senators  from  the 
free  States — within  a  fraction,  you  see,  of  one-half  of  all 
the  votes  in  this  body  for  the  admission  of  Texas,  with  its 
immeasurable  extent  of  slave  territory — were  sent  here  by 
the  votes  of  free  States. 

Sir,  there  is  not  so  remarkable  a  chapter  in  our  history 
of  political  events,  political  parties,  and  political  men,  as 
is  afforded  by  this  measure  for  the  admission  of  Texas, 
with  this  immense  territory,  that  a  bird  cannot  fly  over  in 
a  week.  [Laughter.]  Sir,  New  England,  with  some  of  her 
votes,  supported  this  measure.  Three-fourths  of  the  votes 
of  liberty-loving  Connecticut  went  for  it  in  the  other 
House,  and  one-half  here.  There  was  one  vote  for  it  in 
Maine,  but  I  am  happy  to-  say,  not  the  vote  of  the  honor 
able  member  who  addressed  the  Senate  the  day  before 
yesterday,  (Mr.  Hamlin,)  and  who  was  then  a  representa 
tive  from  Maine  in  the  other  House ;  but  there  was  a  vote 
or  two  from  Maine — ay,  and  there  was  one  vote  for  it 
from  Massachusetts,  the  gentleman  then  representing  and 
now  living  in  the  district  in  which  the  prevalence  of  free- 
soil  sentiment,  for  a  couple  of  years  or  so,  has  defeated 
the  choice  of  any  member  to  represent  it  in  Congress. 


*276  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

Sir,  that  body  of  Northern  and  Eastern  men  who  gave 
those  votes  at  that  time,  are  now  seen  taking  upon  them 
selves,  in  the  nomenclature  of  politics,  the  appellation  of 
the  Northern  Democracy.  They  undertook  to  wield  the 
destinies  of  this  empire — if  I  may  call  a  republic  an 
empire — and  their  policy  was,  and  they  persisted  in  it,  to 
bring  into  this  country  all  the  territory  they  could.  They 
did  it  under  pledges,  absolute  pledges,  to  the  slave  interest 
in  the  case  of  Texas,  and  afterward  they  lent  their  aid 
in  bringing  in  these  new  conquests.  My  honorable  friend 
from  Georgia,  in  March,  1847,  moved  the  Senate  to  de 
clare  that  the  war  ought  not  to  be  prosecuted  for  acquisi 
tion,  for  conquest,  for  the  dismemberment  of  Mexico.  The 
same  Northern  Democracy  entirely  voted  against  it.  He 
did  not  get  a  vote  from  them.  It  suited  the  views,  the 
patriotism,  the  elevated  sentiments  of  the  Northern  De 
mocracy  to  bring  in  a  world  here,  among  the  mountains 
and  valleys  of  California  and  New  Mexico,  or  any  other 
part  of  Mexico,  and  then  quarrel  about  it ;  to  bring  it  in, 
and  then  endeavor  to  put  upon  it  the  saving  grace  of  the 
Wilmot  proviso.  There  were  two  eminent  and  highly- 
respectable  gentlemen  from  the  North  and  East,  then 
leading  gentlemen  in  this  Senate :  I  refer — and  I  do  so 
with  entire  respect,  for  I  entertain  for  both  of  those 
gentlemen  in  general  high  regard — to  Mr.  Dix,  of  New 
York,  and  Mr.  Niles,  of  Connecticut,  who  voted  for  the 
admission  of  Texas.  They  would  not  have  that  vote  any 
other  way  than  as  it  stood ;  and  they  would  not  have  it  as 
it  did  stand.  I  speak  of  the  vote  upon  the  annexation  of 
Texas.  Those  two  gentlemen  would  have  the  resolution 
of  annexation  just  as  it  is,  and  they  voted  for  it  just  as  it 
is,  and  their  eyes  were  all  open  to  it.  My  honorable 
friend,  the  member  who  addressed  us  the  other  day  from 
South  Carolina,  was  then  Secretary  of  State.  His  corre- 


ON   THE    SLAVERY    COMPROMISE.  277 

spondence  with  Mr.  Murphy,  the  Charge*  d' Affaires  of  the 
United  States  in  Texas,  had  been  published.  That  corre 
spondence  was  all  before  those  gentlemen,  and  the  Secre 
tary  had  the  boldness  and  candor  to  avow  in  that  corre 
spondence  that  the  great  object  sought  by  the  annexation 
of  Texas  was  to  strengthen  the  slave  interest  of  the 
South.  Why,  sir,  he  said,  in  so  many  words 

Mr.  CALHOUN.  Will  the  honorable  Senator  permit  me 
to  interrupt  him  for  a  moment  ? 

Mr.  WEBSTER.     Certainly. 

Mr.  CALHOUN.  I  am  very  reluctant  to  interrupt  the 
honorable  gentleman  ;  but,  upon  a  point  of  so  much  im 
portance,  I  deem  it  right  to  put  myself  rectus  in  curia. 
I  did  not  put  it  upon  the  ground  assumed  by  the  Senator. 
I  put  it  upon  this  ground — that  Great  Britain  had  an 
nounced  to  this  country,  in  so  many  words,  that  her  ob 
ject  was  to  abolish  slavery  in  Texas,  and  through  Texas 
to  accomplish  the  abolishment  of  slavery  in  the  United 
States  and  the  world.  The  ground  I  put  it  on  was,  that 
it  would  make  an  exposed  frontier  ;  and  if  Great  Britain 
succeeded  in  her  object,  it  would  be  impossible  that  that 
frontier  could  be  secured  against  the  aggression  of  the  abo 
litionists  ;  and  that  this  Government  was  bound,  under  the 
guarantees  of  the  Constitution,  to  protect  us  against  such 
a  state  of  things. 

Mr.  WEBSTER.  That  comes,  I  suppose,  sir,  to  exactly 
the  same  thing.  It  was,  that  Texas  must  be  obtained  for 
the  security  of  the  slave  interest  of  the  South. 

Mr.  CALHOUN.     Another  view  is  very  distinctly  given. 

Mr.  WEBSTER.  That  was  the  object  set  forth  in  the 
correspondence  of  a  worthy  gentleman  not  now  living,  who 
preceded  the  honorable  member  from  South  Carolina  in 
that  office.  There  repose  on  the  files  of  the  department 
of  State,  as  I  have  occasion  to  know,  strong  letters  from 

24 


278  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER 

Mr.  Upsliur  to  the  United  States  minister  in  England, 
and  I  believe  there  are  some  to  the  same  minister  from 
the  honorable  Senator  himself,  asserting  to  this  effect  the 
sentiments  of  this  Government,  that  Great  Britain  was 
expected  not  to  interfere  to  take  Texas  out  of  the  hands 
of  its  then  existing  Government,  and  make  it  a  free 
country.  But  my  argument,  my  suggestion,  is  this — that 
those  gentlemen  who  composed  the  Northern  Democracy 
when  Texas  was  brought  into  the  Union,  saw,  with  all 
their  eyes,  that  it  was  brought  in  as  slave  country,  and 
brought  in  for  the  purpose  of  being  maintained  as  slave 
territory  to  the  Greek  kalends.  I  rather  think  the  honor 
able  gentleman,  who  was  then  Secretary  of  State,  might, 
in  some  of  his  correspondence  with  Mr.  Murphy,  have 
suggested  that  it  was  not  expedient  to  say  too  much  about 
this  object,  that  it  might  create  some  alarm.  At  any  rate, 
Mr.  Murphy  wrote  to  him,  that  England  was  anxious  to 
get  rid  of  the  Constitution  of  Texas,  because  it  was  a 
Constitution  establishing  slavery ;  and  that  what  the 
United  States  had  to  do  was,  to  aid  the  people  of  Texas 
in  upholding  their  Constitution ;  but  that  nothing  should 
be  said  that  should  offend  the  fanatical  men.  But,  sir, 
the  honorable  member  did  avow  this  object,  himself, 
openly,  boldly,  and  manfully ;  he  did  not  disguise  his  con 
duct,  or  his  motives. 

Mr.  CALHOUN.     Never,  never. 

Mr.  WEBSTER.     What  he  means  he  is  very  apt  to  say. 

Mr.  CALHOUN.     Always,  always. 

Mr.  WEBSTER.  And  I  honor  him  for  it.  This  admis 
sion  of  Texas  was  in  1845.  Then,  in  1847,  flagrante  bello 
between  the  United  States  and  Mexico,  the  proposition  I 
have  mentioned  was  brought  forward  by  my  friend  from 
Georgia,  and  the  Northern  Democracy  voted  straight 
ahead  against  it.  Their  remedy  was  to  apply  to  the 


ON   THE   SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  279 

acquisitions,  after  they  should  come  in,  the  Wilmot  pro 
viso.  What  follows  ?  These  two  gentlemen,  worthy,  and 
honorable,  and  influential  men — and  if  they  had  not  been 
they  could  not  have  carried  the  measure  —  these  two 
gentlemen,  members  of  this  body,  brought  in  Texas,  and 
by  their  votes  they  also  prevented  the  passage  of  the 
resolution  of  the  honorable  member  from  Georgia,  and 
then  they  went  home  and  took  the  lead  in  the  freesoil 
party.  And  there  they  stand,  sir  !  They  leave  us  here, 
bound  in  honor  and  conscience  by  the  resolutions  of  an 
nexation — they  leave  us  here  to  take  the  odium  of  ful 
filling  the  obligations  in  favor  of  slavery  which  they  voted 
us  into,  or  else  the  greater  odium  of  violating  those  ob 
ligations,  while  they  are  at  home,  making  rousing  and 
capital  speeches  for  freesoil  and  no  slavery.  [Laughter.] 
And,  therefore,  I  say,  sir,  that  there  is  not  a  chapter  in 
our  history,  respecting  public  measures  and  public  men, 
more  full  of  what  should  create  surprise,  more  full  of  what 
does  create,  in  my  mind,  extreme  mortification,  than  that 
of  the  conduct  of  this  Northern  Democracy. 

Mr.  President,  sometimes,  when  a  man  is  found  in  a, 
new  relation  to  things  around  him  and  to  other  men,  he 
says  the  world  has  changed,  and  that  he  has  not  changed. 
I  believe,  sir,  that  our  self-respect  leads  us  often  to  make 
this  declaration  in  regard  to  ourselves,  when  it  is  not 
exactly  true.  An  individual  is  more  apt  to  change,  per 
haps,  than  all  the  world  around  him.  But,  under  the 
present  circumstances,  and  under  the  responsibility  which 
I  know  I  incur  by  what  I  am  now  stating  here,  I  feel  at 
liberty  to  recur  to  the  various  expressions  and  statements, 
made  at  various  times,  of  my  own  opinions  and  resolu 
tions  respecting  the  admission  of  Texas,  and  all  that  has 
followed  Sir,  as  early  as  1836,  or  in  the  earlier  part  of 
1837,  a  matter  of  conversation  and  correspondence  be- 


280  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

tween  myself  and  some  private  friends  was  this  project 
of  annexing  Texas  to  the  United  States ;  and  an  honor 
able  gentleman  with  whom  I  have  had  a  long  acquaint 
ance,  a  friend  of  mine,  now  perhaps  in  this  chamber — I 
mean  General  Hamilton,  of  South  Carolina — was  knowing 
to  that  correspondence.  I  had  voted  for  the  recognition 
of  Texan  independence,  because  I  believed  it  was  an  exist 
ing  fact,  surprising  and  astonishing  as  it  was,  and  I 
wished  well  to  the  new  republic ;  but  I  manifested  from 
the  first  utter  opposition  to  bringing  her,  with  her  terri 
tory,  into  the  Union.  I  had  occasion,  sir,  in  1837,  to 
meet  friends  in  New  York,  on  some  political  occasion,  and 
I  then  stated  my  sentiments  upon  the  subject.  It  was 
the  first  time  that  I  had  occasion  to  advert  to  it ;  and  I 
will  ask  a  friend  near  me  to  do  me  the  favor  to  read  an 
extract  from  the  speech,  for  the  Senate  may  find  it  rather 
tedious  to  listen  to  the  whole  of  it.  It  was  delivered  in 
Niblo's  Garden  in  1837. 

[Mr.  GREENE  then  read  the  following  extract  from  the 
speech  of  the  honorable  Senator,  to  which  he  referred : 

"  Gentlemen,  we  all  see  that,  by  whomsoever  possessed, 
Texas  is  likely  to  be  a  slaveholding  country ;  and  I  frankly 
avow  my  entire  unwillingness  to  do  any  thing  which  shall 
extend  the  slavery  of  the  African  race  on  this  continent, 
or  add  other  slaveholding  States  to  the  Union. 

"  When  I  say  that  I  regard  slavery  in  itself  as  a  great 
moral,  social,  and  political  evil,  I  only  use  language  which 
has  been  adopted  by  distinguished  men,  themselves  citizens 
of  slaveholding  States. 

"I  shall  do  nothing,  therefore,  to  favor  or  encourage  its 
further  extension.  We  have  slavery  already  among  us. 
The  Constitution  found  it  among  us  ;  it  recognised  it,  and 
gave  it  solemn  guarantees. 

"  To  the  full  extent  of  these  guarantees  we  are  all  bound 


ON  THE   SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  281 

in  honor,  in  justice,  and  by  the  Constitution.  All  the 
stipulations  contained  in  the  Constitution  in  favor  of  the 
slaveholding  States,  which  are  already  in  the  Union,  ought 
to  be  fulfilled,  and,  so  far  as  depends  on  me,  shall  be  fulfilled 
in  the  fulness  of  their  spirit  and  to  the  exactness  of  their 
letter.  Slavery,  as  it  exists  in  the  States,  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  Congress.  It  is  a  concern  of  the  States  them 
selves.  They  never  submitted  it  to  Congress,  and  Congress 
has  no,  rightful  power  over  it. 

"  I  shall  concur,  therefore,  in  no  act,  no  measure,  no 
menace,  no  indication  of  purpose  which  shall  interfere  or 
threaten  to  interfere  with  the  exclusive  authority  of  the 
several  States  over  the  subject  of  slavery,  as  it  exists  within 
their  respective  limits.  All  this  appears  to  me  to  be  matter 
of  plain  and  imperative  duty. 

"But  when  we  come  to  speak  of  admitting  new  States, 
the  subject  assumes  an  entirely  different  aspect.  Our  rights 

and  our  duties  are  then  both  different. 

****** 

"  I  see,  therefore,  no  political  necessity  for  the  annexa 
tion  of  Texas  to  the  Union — no  advantages  to  be  derived 
from  it ;  and  objections  to  it  of  a  strong,  and,  in  my  judg 
ment,  of  a  decisive  character."] 

Mr.  WEBSTER.  I  have  nothing,  sir,  to  add  to,  nor  to 
take  back  from,  those  sentiments.  That,  the  Senate  will 
perceive,  was  in  1837.  The  purpose  of  immediately  annex 
ing  Texas  at  that  time  was  abandoned  or  postponed ;  and 
it  was  not  revived  with  any  vigor  for  some  years.  In  the 
mean  time  it  had  so  happened  that  I  had  become  a  member 
of  the  Executive  administration,  and  was  for  a  short  period 
in  the  Department  of  State.  The  annexation  of  Texas  was 
a  subject  of  conversation — not  confidential — with  the  Pre 
sident  and  heads  of  department,  as  well  as  with  other  public 
men.  No  serious  attempt  was  then  made,  however,  to  bring 

24* 


1282  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

it  about.  I  left  the  Department  of  State  in  May,  1843, 
and  shortly  after  I  learned,  though  no  way  connected  with 
official  information,  that  a  design  had  been  taken  up  of 
bringing  in  Texas,  with  her  slave  territory  and  population^ 
into  the  United  States.  I  was  here  in  Washington  at  the 
time,  and  persons  are  now  here  who  will  remember  that  we 
had  an  arranged  meeting  for  conversation  upon  it.  I  went 
home  to  Massachusetts,  and  proclaimed  the  existence  of 
that  purpose ;  but  I  could  get  no  audience,  and  but  little 
attention.  Some  did  not  believe  it,  and  some  were  too 
much  engaged  in  their  own  pursuits  to  give  it  any  heed. 
They  had  gone  to  their  farms  or  to  their  merchandise,  and 
it  was  impossible  to  arouse  any  sentiment  in  New  England 
or  in  Massachusetts  that  should  combine  the  two  great 
political  parties  against  this  annexation ;  and,  indeed,  there 
was  no  hope  of  bringing  the  Northern  Democracy  into  that 
view,  for  the  leaning  was  all  the  other  way.  But,  sir,  even 
with  Whigs,  and  leading  Whigs,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  there 
was  a  great  indifference  toward  the  admission  of  Texas  with 
slave  territory  into  this  Union.  It  went  on.  I  was  then 
out  of  Congress.  The  annexation  resolutions  passed  the 
1st  of  March,  1845.  The  Legislature  of  Texas  complied 
with  the  conditions,  and  accepted  the  guarantees;  for  the 
phraseology  of  the  language  of  the  resolution  is,  that  Texas 
is  to  come  in  "  upon  the  conditions  and  under  the  guarantees 
herein  prescribed."  I  happened  to  be  returned  to  the 
Senate  in  March,  1845,  and  was  here  in  December,  1845, 
when  the  acceptance  by  Texas  of  the  conditions  proposed 
by  Congress  was  laid  before  us  by  the  President,  and  an 
act  for  the  consummation  of  the  connection  was  laid  before 
the  two  Houses.  The  connection  was  not  completed.  A 
final  law  doing  the  deed  of  annexation  ultimately  and  finally 
had  not  been  passed ;  and  when  it  was  upon  its  final  pass 
age  here,  I  expressed  my  opposition  to  it,  and  recorded 


ON   THE   SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  283 

my  vote  in  the  negative  :  and  there  the  vote  stands,  with  the 
observations  that  I  made  upon  that  occasion.  It  has  hap 
pened  that  between  1837  and  this  time,  on  various  occa 
sions  and  opportunities,  I  have  expressed  my  entire  opposi 
tion  to  the  admission  of  slave  States,  or  the  acquisition  of 
new  slave  territories,  to  be  added  to  the  United  States.  I 
know,  sir,  no  change  in  my  own  sentiments  or  my  own  pur 
poses  in  that  respect.  I  will  now  again  ask  my  friend  from 
Rhode  Island  to  read  another  extract  from  a  speech  of 
mine,  made  at  a  Whig  convention  in  Springfield,  Mas 
sachusetts,  in  the  month  of  September,  1847. 

[Mr.  GREENE  here  read  the  following  extract  : 

"We  hear  much  just  now  of  a  panacea  for  the  dangers 
and  evils  of  slavery  and  slave-annexation,  which  they  call 
the  iWilmot  Proviso.'  That  certainly  is  a  just  sentiment, 
but  it  is  not  a  sentiment  to  found  any  new  party  upon.  It 
is  not  a  sentiment  on  which  Massachusetts  Whigs  differ. 
There  is  not  a  man  in  this  hall  who  holds  to  it  more  firmly 
than  I  do,  nor  one  who  adheres  to  it  more  than  another. 

"  I  feel  some  little  interest  in  this  matter,  sir.  Did  not 
I  commit  myself  in  1838  to  the  whole  doctrine,  fully, 
entirely  ?  And  I  must  be  permitted  to  say  that  I  cannot 
quite  consent  that  more  recent  discoveries  should  claim  the 
merit  and  take  out  a  patent. 

"  I  deny  the  priority  of  their  invention.     Allow  me  to 

say,  sir,  it  is  not  their  thunder. 

****** 

"  We  are  to  use  the  first,  and  last,  and  every  occasion 
which  offers  to  oppose  the  extension  of  slave-power. 

u  But  I  speak  of  it  here,  as  in  Congress,  as  a  political 
question,  a  question  for  statesmen  to  act  upon.  We  must 
so  regard  it.  I  certainly  do  not  mean  to  say  that  it  is  less 
important  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  that  it  is  not  more  im 
portant  in  many  other  points  of  view ;  but,  as  a  legislator, 


284  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER, 

or  in  any  official  capacity,  I  must  look  at  it,  consider  it, 
and  decide  it  as  a  matter  of  political  action."] 

Mr.  WEBSTER.  On  other  occasions,  in  debates  here,  I 
have  expressed  my  determination  to  vote  for  no  acquisition, 
or  cession,  or  annexation,  North  or  South,  East  or  West. 
My  opinion  has  been,  that  we  have  territory  enough,  and 
that  we  should  follow  the  Spartan  maxim,  "  Improve, 
adorn  what  you  have,  seek  no  farther."  I  think  that  it- 
was  in  some  observations  that  I  made  here  on  the  three 
million  loan  bill,  that  I  avowed  that  sentiment.  In  short, 
sir,  the  sentiment  has  been  avowed  quite  as  often,  in  as 
many  places,  and  before  as  many  assemblies,  as  any  humble 
sentiments  of  mine  ought  to  be  avowed. 

But  now  that,  under  certain  conditions,  Texas  is  in,  with 
all  her  territories,  as  a  slave  State,  with  a  solemn  pledge 
that  if  she  is  divided  into  many  States,  those  States  may 
come  in  as  slave  States  south  of  36°  30',  how  are  we  to 
deal  with  this  subject?  I  know  no  way  of  honorable 
legislation,  when  the  proper  time  comes  for  the  enactment, 
but  to  carry  into  effect  all  that  we  have  stipulated  to  do.  I 
do  not  entirely  agree  with  my  honorable  friend  from  Ten 
nessee,  (Mr.  Bell,)  that,  as  soon  as  the  time  comes  when 
she  is  entitled  to  another  representative,  we  should  create 
a  new  State.  The  rule  in  regard  to  it  I  take  to  be  this  : 
that,  when  we  have  created  new  States  out  of  Territories, 
we  have  generally  gone  upon  the  idea  that  when  there  is 
population  enough  to  form  a  State,  sixty  thousand,  or  some 
such  thing,  we  would  create  a  State ;  but  it  is  quite  a  dif- 
frreiit  thing  when  a  State  is  divided,  and  two  or  more 
States  made  out  of  it.  It  does  not  follow,  in  such  a  case, 
that  the  same  rule  of  apportionment  should  be  applied. 
That,  however,  is  a  matter  for  the  consideration  of  Con 
gress,  when  the  proper  time  arrives.  I  may  not  then  be 
here.  I  may  have  no  vote  to  give  on  the  occasion ;  but  I 


ON  THE  SLAVERY  COMPROMISE.         285 

wish  it  to  be  distinctly  understood  to-day,  that,  according 
to  my  view  of  the  matter,  this  Government  is  solemnly 
pledged  by  law  to  create  new  States  out  of  Texas,  with  her 
consent,  when  her  population  shall  justify  such  a  proceed 
ing  ;  and,  so  far  as  such  States  are  formed  out  of  Texan 
territory  lying  south  of  86°  30',  to  let  them  come  in  as 
slave  States.  That  is  the  meaning  of  the  resolution  which 
our  friends,  the  Northern  Democracy,  have  left  us  to  fulfil ; 
and  I,  for  one,  mean  to  fulfil  it,  because  I  will  not  violate 
the  faith  of  the  Government. 

New,  as  to  California  and  New  Mexico,  I  hold  slavery 
to  be  excluded  from  those  Territories  by  a  law  even  superior 
to  that  which  admits  and  sanctions  it  in  Texas.  I  mean 
the  law  of  nature, — of  physical  geography, — the  law  of 
the  formation  of  the  earth.  That  law  settles  forever,  with 
a  strength  beyond  all  terms  of  human  enactment,  that 
slavery  cannot  exist  in  California  or  New  Mexico.  Under 
stand  me,  sir ;  I  mean  slavery  as  we  regard  it ;  slaves  in 
gross,  of  the  colored  race,  transferable  by  sale  and  delivery 
like  other  property.  I  shall  not  discuss  this  point,  but  I 
leave  it  to  the  learned  gentlemen  who  have  undertaken  to 
discuss  it ;  but  I  suppose  there  is  no  slave  of  that  descrip 
tion  in  California  now.  I  understand  that  peonism,  a  sort 
of  penal  servitude,  exists  there,  or  rather  a  sort  of  volun 
tary  sale  of  a  man  and  his  offspring  for  debt,  as  it  is 
arranged  and  exists  in  some  parts  of  California  and  New 
Mexico.  But  what  I  mean  to  say  is,  that  African  slavery, 
as  we  see  it  among  us,  is  as  utterly  impossible  to  find  itself, 
or  to  be  found,  in  Mexico,  as  any  other  natural  impossi 
bility.  California  and  New  Mexico  are  Asiatic  in  their 
formation  and  scenery.  They  are  composed  of  vast  ridges 
of  mountains  of  enormous  height,  with  broken  ridges  and 
deep  valleys.  The  sides  of  these  mountains  are  barren, 
entirely  barren,  their  tops  capped  by  perennial  sncw. 


286  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

There  may  be  in  California,  now  made  free  by  its  Constitu 
tion,  and  no  doubt  there  are,  some  tracts  of  valuable  land. 
But  it  is  not  so  in  New  Mexico.  Pray,  what  is  the  evidence 
which  every  gentleman  must  have  obtained  on  this  subject, 
from  information  sought  by  himself  or  communicated  by 
others  ?  I  have  inquired  and  read  all  I  could  find  in  order 
to  obtain  information.  What  is  there  in  New  Mexico  that 
could  by  any  possibility  induce  anybody  to  go  there  with 
slaves  ?  There  are  some  narrow  strips  of  tillable  land  on 
the  borders  of  the  rivers  ;  but  the  rivers  themselves  dry  up 
before  midsummer  is  gone.  All  that  the  people  can  do  is 
to  raise  some  little  articles,  some  little  wheat  for  their 
tortillas,  and  all  that  by  irrigation.  And  who  expects  to 
see  a  hundred  black  men  cultivating  tobacco,  corn,  cotton, 
rice,  or  any  thing  else,  on  lands  in  New  Mexico  made  fer 
tile  only  by  irrigation  ?  I  look  upon  it,  therefore,  as  a 
fixed  fact, — to  use  an  expression  current  at  this  day, — that 
both  California  and  New  Mexico  are  destined  to  be  free,  so 
far  as  they  are  settled  at  all,  which  I  believe,  especially  in 
regard  to  New  Mexico,  will  be  very  little  for  a  great  length 
of  time;  free  by  the 'arrangement  of  things  by  the  Power 
above  us.  I  have,  therefore,  to  say,  in  this  respect  also, 
that  this  country  is  fixed  for  freedom,  to  as  many  persons 
as  shall  ever  live  there,  by  as  irrepealable  and  more  irre- 
pealable  a  law  than  the  law  that  attaches  to  the  right  of 
holding  slaves  in  Texas ;  and  I  will  say  further,  that  if  a 
resolution  or  a  law  were  now  before  us  to  provide  a  terri 
torial  government  for  New  Mexico,  I  would  not  vote  to  put 
any  prohibition  into  it  whatever.  The  use  of  such  a  pro 
hibition  would  be  idle,  as  it  respects  any  effect  it  would 
have  upon  the  Territory ;  and  I  would  not  take  pains  to 
reaffirm  an  ordinance  of  Nature,  nor  to  re-enact  the  will 
of  God.  And  I  would  put  in  no  Wilmot  Proviso  for  the 
purpose  of  a  taunt  or  a  reproach.  I  would  put  into  it  no 


ON   THE    SLAVERY    COMPROMISE.  287 

evidence  of  the  votes  of  superior  power,  to  wound  the  pride, 
even  whether  a  just  pride,  a  rational  pride,  or  an  irrational 
pride — to  wound  the  pride  of  the  gentlemen  who  belong  to 
the  Southern  States.  I  have  no  such  object,  no  such  pur 
pose.  They  would  think  it  a  taunt,  an  indignity;  they 
would  think  it  to  be  an  act  taking  away  from  them  what 
they  regard  a  proper  equality  of  privilege  ;  and  whether 
they  expect  to  realize  any  benefit  from  it  or  not,  they  would 
think  it  a  theoretic  wrong  ;  that  something  more  or  less  de 
rogatory  to  their  character  and  their  rights  had  taken  place. 
I  propose  to  inflict  no  such  wound  upon  anybody,  unless 
something  essentially  important  to  the  country,  and  efficient 
to  the  preservation  of  liberty  and  freedom,  is  to  be  effected. 
Therefore,  I  repeat,  sir,  and  I  repeat  it  because  I  wish  it 
to  be  understood,  that  I  do  not  propose  to  address  the 
Senate  often  on  this  subject.  I  desire  to  pour  out  all  my 
heart  in  as  plain  a  manner  as  possible ;  and  I  say,  again, 
that  if  a  proposition  were  now  here  for  a  government  for 
New  Mexico,  and  it  was  moved  to  insert  a  provision  for  a 
prohibition  of  slavery,  I  would  not  vote  for  it. 

Now,  Mr.  President,  I  have  established,  so  far  as  I  pro 
posed  to  go  into  any  line  of  'observation  to  establish,  the 
proposition  with  which  I  set  out,  and  upon  which  I  propose 
to  stand  or  fall ;  and  that  is,  that  the  whole  territory  of 
the  States  in  the  United  States,  or  in  the  newly-acquired 
territory  of  the  United  States,  has  a  fixed  and  settled  cha 
racter,  now  fixed  and  settled  by  law,  which  cannot  be 
repealed  in  the  case  of  Texas  without  a  violation  of  public 
faith,  and  cannot  be  repealed  by  any  human  power  in  re 
gard  to  California  or  New  Mexico ;  that,  under  one  or 
other  of  these  laws,  every  foot  of  territory  in  the  States  or 
in  the  Territories  has  now  received  a  fixed  and  decided 
cnaracter. 

Sir,  if    we  were  now  making  a  government  for  New 


'J8S  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

Mexico,  and  anybody  should  propose  a  Wilmot  Proviso,  I 
should  treat  it  exactly  as  Mr.  Polk  treated  that  provision 
for  excluding  slavery  from  Oregon.  Mr.  Polk  was  known 
to  be  in  opinion  decidedly  averse  to  the  Wilmot  Proviso ; 
but  he  felt  the  necessity  of  establishing  a  government  for 
the  Territory  of  Oregon,  and  though  the  proviso  was  there, 
he  knew  it  would  be  entirely  nugatory ;  and,  since  it  must 
be  entirely  nugatory,  since  it  took  away  no  right,  no  de- 
scribable,  no  estimable,  no  weighable  or  tangible  right  of 
the  South,  he  said  he  would  sign  the  bill  for  the  sake  of 
enacting  a  law  to  form  a  government  in  that  Territory,  and 
let  that  entirely  useless,  and,  in  that  connection,  entirely 
senseless,  proviso  remain.  For  myself,  I  will  say  that  we 
hear  much  of  the  annexation  of  Canada;  and  if  there  be 
any  man,  any  of  the  Northern  Democracy,  or  any  one  of 
the  Freesoil  party,  who  supposes  it  necessary  to  insert  a 
Wilmot  Proviso  in  a  territorial  government  for  New  Mexico, 
that  man  will  of  course  be  of  opinion  that  it  is  necessary 
to  protect  the  everlasting  snows  of  Canada  from  the  foot 
of  slavery  by  the  same  overpowering  wing  of  an  act  of 
Congress.  Sir,  wherever  there  is  a  particular  good  to  be 
done,  wherever  there  is  a  foot  of  land  to  be  stayed  back 
from  becoming  slave  territory,  I  am  ready  to  assert  the 
principle  of  the  exclusion  of  slavery.  I  am  pledged  to  it 
from  the  year  1837  ;  I  have  been  pledged  to  it  again  and 
again  ;  and  I  will  perform  those  pledges  ;  but  I  will  not  do 
a  thing  unnecessary,  that  wounds  the  feelings  of  others,  or 
that  does  disgrace  to  my  own  understanding. 

Mr.  President,  in  the  excited  times  in  which  we  live, 
there  is  found  to  exist  a  state  of  crimination  and  recrimi 
nation  between  the  North  and  South.  There  are  lists  of 
grievances  produced  by  each  ;  and  those  grievances,  real 
or  supposed,  alienate  the  minds  of  one  portion  of  the 
country  from  the  other,  exasperate  the  feelings,  subduo 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  289 

the  sense  of  fraternal  connection,  and  patriotic  lovo,  and 
mutual  regard.  I  shall  bestow  a  little  attention,  pir,  upon 
these  various  grievances  produced  on  the  one  side  and  on 
the  other.  I  begin  with  the  complaints  of  the  South. 
I  will  not  answer,  further  than  I  have,  the  general  state 
ments  of  the  honorable  Senator  from  South  Carolina,  that 
the  North  has  grown  upon  the  South  in  consequence 
of  the  manner  of  administering  this  Government,  in  the 
collecting  of  its  revenues,  and  so  forth.  These  are  dis 
puted  topics,  and  I  have  no  inclination  to  enter  into  them. 
But  I  will  state  these  complaints,  especially  one  complaint 
of  the  South,  which  has,  in  my  opinion,  just  foundation  ; 
and  that  is,  that  there  has  been  found  at  the  North, 
among  individuals,  and  among  the  legislators  of  the  North, 
a  disinclination  to  perform,  fully,  their  constitutional 
duties  in  regard  to  the  return  of  persons  bound  to  service, 
who  have  escaped  into  the  free  States.  In  that  respect? 
it  is  my  judgment  that  the  South  is  right,  and  the  North 
is  wrong.  Every  member  of  every  Northern  legislature 
is  bound,  like  every  other  officer  in  the  country,  by  oath, 
to  support  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States ;  and 
this  article  of  the  Constitution,  which  says  to  these  States, 
they  shall  deliver  up  fugitives  from,  service,  is  as  binding 
in  honor  and  conscience  as  any  other  article.  No  man 
fulfils  his  duty  in  any  legislature  who  sets  himself  to  find 
excuses,  evasions,  escapes  from  this  constitutional  obliga 
tion.  I  have  always  thought  that  the  Constitution  ad 
dressed  itself  to  the  legislatures  of  the  States  or  to  the 
States  themselves.  It  says  that  those  persons  escaping  to 
other  States  shall  be  delivered  up,  and  I  confess  I  have 
always  been  of  the  opinion  that  it  was  an  injunction  upon 
the  States  themselves.  When  it  is  said  that  a  person 
escaping  into  another  State,  and  becoming  therefore 
within  the  jurisdiction  of  that  State,  shall  be  delivered  up, 

25 


290  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

it  seems  to  me  the  import  of  the  passage  is,  that  the 
State  itself,  in  obedience  to  the  Constitution,  shall  cause 
him  to  be  delivered  up.  That  is  my  judgment.  I  have 
always  entertained  that  opinion,  and  I  entertain  it  now. 
But  when  the  subject,  some  years  ago,  was  before  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  the  majority  of  the 
judges  held  that  the  power  to  cause  fugitives  from  ser 
vice  to  be  delivered  up  was  a  power  to  be  exercised  under 
the  authority  of  this  Government.  I  do  not  know,  on  the 
whole,  that  it  may  not  have  been  a  fortunate  decision. 
My  habit  is  to  respect  the  result  of  judicial  deliberations, 
and  the  solemnity  of  judicial  decisions.  But  as  it  now 
stands,  the  business  of  seeing  that  these  fugitives  are  de 
livered  up  resides  in  the  power  of  Congress  and  the  na 
tional  judicature,  and  my  friend  at  the  head  of  the  judi 
ciary  committee  has  a  bill  on  the  subject  now  before  the 
Senate  with  some  amendments  to  it,  which  I  propose  to 
support,  with  all  its  provisions,  to  the  fullest  extent.  And 
I  desire  to  call  the  attention  of  all  sober-minded  men,  of 
all  conscientious  men,  in  the  North,  of  all  men  who  are 
not  carried  away  by  any  fanatical  idea,  or  by  any  false 
idea  whatever,  to  their  constitutional  obligations.  I  put  it 
to  all  the  sober  and  sound  minds  at  the  North,  as  a  ques 
tion  of  morals  and  a  question  of  conscience,  What  right 
have  they,  in  their  legislative  capacity,  or  any  other,  to 
endeavor  to  get  round  this  Constitution,  to  embarrass  the 
free  exercise  of  the  rights  secured  by  the  Constitution  to 
the  persons  whose  slaves  escape  from  them  ?  None  at  all ; 
none  at  all.  Neither  in  the  forum  of  conscience,  nor 
before  the  face  of  the  Constitution,  are  they  justified,  in 
my  opinion.  Of  course  it  is  a  matter  for  their  considera 
tion.  They  probably,  in  the  turmoil  of  the  times,  have 
not  stopped  to  consider  of  this ;  they  have  followed  what 
seems  to  be  the  current  of  thought  and  of  motives,  as  iho 


ON  THE  SLAVERY  COMPROMISE.         291 

occasion  arose,  and  neglected  to  investigate  fully  the  real 
question,  and  to  consider  their  constitutional  obligations; 
as  I  am  sure,  if  they  did  consider,  they  would  fulfil  them 
with  alacrity.  Therefore  I  repeat,  sir,  that  there  is  a 
ground  of  complaint  against  the  North,  well  founded, 
which  ought  to  be  removed,  which  it  is  now  in  the  power 
of  the  different  departments  of  this  Government  to  re 
move,  which  calls  for  the  enactment  of  proper  laws  author 
izing  the  judicature  of  this  Government,  in  the  several 
States,  to  do  all  that  is  necessary  for  the  recapture  of 
fugitive  slaves,  and  for  the  restoration  of  them  to  those 
who  claim  them.  Wherever  I  go,  and  whenever  I  speak 
on  this  subject, — and  when  I  speak  here  I  desire  to  speak 
to  the  whole  North, — I  say  that  the  South  has  been  in 
jured  in  this  respect,  and  has  a  right  to  complain ;  and 
the  North  has  been  too  careless  of  what  I  think  the  Con 
stitution  peremptorily  and  emphatically  enjoins  upon  it  as 
a  duty. 

Complaint  has  been  made  against  certain  resolutions 
that  emanate  from  legislatures  at  the  North,  and  are  sent 
here  to  us,  not  only  on  the  subject  of  slavery  in  this  Dis 
trict,  but  sometimes  recommending  Congress  to  consider 
the  means  of  abolishing  slavery  in  the  States.  I  should 
be  very  sorry  to  be  called  upon  to  present  any  resolutions 
here  which  could  not  be  referable  to  any  committee  or  any 
power  in  Congress  ;  and  therefore  I  should  be  very  un 
willing  to  receive  from  Massachusetts  instructions  to  pre 
sent  resolutions  expressing  any  opinion  whatever  upon 
slavery  as  it  exists  at  the  present  moment  in  the  States, 
for  two  reasons :  because,  first,  I  do  not  consider  that 
the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  has  any  thing  to  do  with 
it;  and  next,  I  do  not  consider  that  I,  as  her  representa 
tive  here,  have  any  thing  to  do  with  it.  Sir,  it  has  be 
come,  in  my  opinion,  quite  too  common ;  and  if  the  legis- 


292         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

latures  of  the  States  do  not  like  that  opinion,  they  have 
a  great  deal  more  power  to  put  it  down  than  I  have  to 
uphold  it.  It  has  become,  in  my  opinion,  quite  too  com 
mon  a  practice  for  the  State  legislatures  to  present  resolu 
tions  here  on  all  subjects,  and  to  instruct  us  here  on  al1 
subjects.  There  is  no  public  man  that  requires  instruction 
more  than  I  do,  or  who  requires  information  more  than  I 
do,  or  desires  it  more  heartily ;  but  I  do  not  like  to  have 
it  come  in  too  imperative  a  shape.  I  took  notice,  with 
pleasure,  of  some  remarks  upon  this  subject,  made  the 
other  day  in  the  Senate  of  Massachusetts,  by  a  young 
man  of  talent  and  character,  from  whom  the  best  hopes 
may  be  entertained.  I  mean  Mr.  Hillard.  He  told  the 
Senate  of  Massachusetts  that  he  would  vote  for  no  instruc 
tions  whatever  to  be  forwarded  to  members  of  Congress, 
nor  for  any  resolutions  to  be  offered  expressive  of  the 
sense  of  Massachusetts  as  to  what  their  members  of  Con 
gress  ought  to  do.  He  said  that  he  saw  no  propriety  in 
one  set  of  public  servants  giving  instructions  and  reading 
lectures  to  another  set  of  public  servants.  To  their  own 
master  all  of  them  must  stand  or  fall,  and  that  master  is 
their  constituents.  I  wish  these  sentiments  could  become 
more  common,  a  great  deal  more  common.  I  have  never 
entered  into  the  question,  and  never  shall,  about  the 
binding  force  of  instructions.  I  will,  however,  simply  say 
this  :  if  there  be  any  matter  of  interest  pending  in  this 
body  while  I  am  a  member  of  it,  in  which  Massachusetts 
has  an  interest  of  her  own  not  adverse  to  the  general 
interest  of  the  country,  I  shall  pursue  her  instructions 
with  gladness  of  heart,  and  with  all  the  efficiency  which 
I  can  bring  it.  But  if  the  question  be  one  which  affects 
her  interest,  and  at  the  same  time  affects  the  interest 
of  all  other  States,  I  shall  no  more  regard  her  political 
wishes  or  instructions  than  I  would  regard  the  wishes  of  a 


ON   THE   SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  293 

man  who  might  appoint  me  an  arbiter  or  referee  to  decide 
Borne  question  of  important  private  right,  and  who  might 
instruct  me  to  decide  in  his  favor.  If  ever  there  was  a 
Government  upon  earth,  it  is  this  Government;  if  ever 
there  was  a  body  upon  earth,  it  is  this  body,  which  should 
consider  itself  as  composed  by  agreement  of  all,  appointed 
by  some,  but  organized  by  the  general  consent  of  all, 
sitting  here  under  the  solemn  obligations  of  oath  and  con 
science  to  do  that  which  they  think  is  best  for  the  good  of 
the  whole. 

Then,  sir,  there  are  these  abolition  societies,  of  which 
I  am  unwilling  to  speak,  but  in  regard  to  which  I  have 
very  clear  notions  and  opinions.  I  do  not  think  them 
useful.  I  think  their  operations  for  the  last  twenty  years 
have  produced  nothing  good  or  valuable.  At  the  same 
time,  I  know  thousands  of  them  are  honest  and  good  men ; 
perfectly  well-meaning  men.  They  have  excited  feelings 
— they  think  they  must  do  something  for  the  cause  of 
liberty,  and  in  their  sphere  of  action  they  do  not  see  what 
else  they  can  do,  than  to  contribute  to  an  abolition  press 
or  an  abolition  society,  or  to  pay  an  abolition  lecturer. 
I  do  not  mean  to  impute  gross  motives  even  to  the  leaders 
of  these  societies,  but  I  am  not  blind  to  the  consequences. 
I  cannot  but  see  what  mischiefs  their  interference  with  the 
South  has  produced.  And  is  it  not  plain  to  every  man  ? 
Let  any  gentleman  who  doubts  of  that,  recur  to  the  de 
bates  in  the  Virginia  House  of  Delegates  in  1832,  and  he 
will  see  with  what  freedom  a  proposition  made  by  Mr. 
Randolph  for  the  gradual  abolition  of  slavery  was  dis 
cussed  in  that  body.  Every  one  spoke  of  slavery  as  he 
thought;  very  ignominious  and  disparaging  names  and 
epithets  were  applied  to  it.  The  debates  in  the  House  of 
Delegates  on  that  occasion,  I  believe,  were  all  published. 
They  were  read  by  every  colored  man  who  could  read, 


294  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

and  if  there  were  any  who  could  not  read,  those  debates 
were  read  to  them  by  others.  At  that  time  Virginia  was 
not  unwilling  nor  afraid  to  discuss  this  question,  and  to  let 
that  part  of  her  population  know  as  much  of  it  as  they 
could  learn.  That  was  in  1832.  As  has  been  said  by 
the  honorable  member  from  Carolina,  these  abolition  so 
cieties  commenced  their  course  of  action  in  1835.  It  i» 
said — I  do  not  know  how  true  it  may  be — that  they  sent 
incendiary  publications  into  the  slave  States;  at  any 
event,  they  attempted  to  arouse,  and  did  arouse,  a  very 
strong  feeling ;  in  other  words,  they  created  great  agita 
tion  in  the  North  against  Southern  slavery.  Well,  what 
was  the  result  ?  The  bonds  of  the  slaves  were  bound 
more  firmly  than  before ;  their  rivets  were  more  strongly 
fastened.  Public  opinion,  which  in  Virginia  had  begun  to 
be  exhibited  against  slavery,  and  was  opening  out  for  the 
discussion  of  the  question,  drew  back  and  shut  itself  up  in 
its  castle.  I  wish  to  know  whether  anybody  in  Virginia 
can,  now,  talk  as  Mr.  Randolph,  Governor  McDowell,  and 
others  talked  there,  openly,  and  sent  their  remarks  to  the 
press,  in  1832.  We  all  know  the  fact,  and  we  all  know 
the  cause ;  and  every  thing  that  this  agitating  people  have 
done  has  been,  not  to  enlarge,  but  to  restrain  ;  not  to  set 
free,  but  to  bind  faster,  the  slave  population  of  the  South. 
That  is  my  judgment.  Sir,  as  I  have  said,  I  know  many 
abolitionists  in  my  own  neighborhood,  very  honest,  good 
people,  misled,  as  I  think,  by  strange  enthusiasm;  but 
they  wish  to  do  something,  and  they  are  called  on  to  con 
tribute,  and  they  do  contribute ;  and  it  is  my  firm  opinion 
this  day,  that  within  the  last  twenty  years,  as  much  money 
has  been  collected  and  paid  to  the  abolition  societies,  aboli 
tion  presses,  and  abolition  lecturers,  as  would  purchase  the 
freedom  of  every  slave  man,  woman,  and  child  in  the 
State  of  Maryland,  and  send  them  all  to  Liberia.  I  have 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  295 

no  doubt  of  it.  But  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  the  benevo 
lence  of  these  abolition  societies  has  at  any  time  taken 
that  particular  turn.  [Laughter.] 

Again,  sir,  the  violence  of  the  'press  is  complained  of. 
The  press  violent !  Why,  sir,  the  press  is  violent  every 
where.  There  are  outrageous  reproaches  in  the  North 
against  the  South,  and  there  are  reproaches  in  not  much 
better  taste  in  the  South  against  the  North.  Sir,  the 
extremists  in  both  parts  of  this  country  are  violent ;  they 
mistake  loud  and  violent  talk  for  eloquence  and  for  reason. 
They  think  that  he  who  talks  loudest  reasons  the  best. 
And  this  we  must  expect,  when  the  press  is  free — as  it  is 
here,  and  I  trust  always  will  be — for,  with  all  its  licen 
tiousness,  and  all  its  evils,  the  entire  and  absolute  freedom 
of  the  press  is  essential  to  the  preservation  of  govern 
ment  on  the  basis  of  a  free  Constitution.  Wherever  it 
exists,  there  will  be  foolish  paragraphs  and  violent  para 
graphs  in  the  press,  as  there  are,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  foolish 
speeches  and  violent  speeches  in  both  Houses  of  Congress. 
In  truth,  sir,  I  must  say  that,  in  my  opinion,  the  vernacu 
lar  tongue  of  the  country  has  become  greatly  vitiated,  de 
praved,  and  corrupted  by  the  style  of  our  Congressional 
debates.  [Laughter.]  And  if  it  were  possible  for  our 
debates  in  Congress  to  vitiate  the  principles  of  the  people 
as  much  as  they  have  depraved  their  taste,  I  should  cry 
out,  "  God  save  the  Republic  !" 

Well,  in  all  this  I  see  no  solid  grievance  ;  no  grievance 
presented  by  the  South,  within  the  redress  of  the  Govern 
ment,  but  the  single  one  to  which  I  have  referred ;  and 
that  is,  the  want  of  a  proper  regard  to  the  injunction  of 
the  Constitution  for  the  delivery  of  fugitive  slaves. 

There  are  also  complaints  of  the  North  against  the 
South.  I  need  not  go  over  them  particularly.  The  first 
and  gravest  is,  that  the  North  adopted  the  Constitution, 


296  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

recognising  the  existence  of  slavery  in  the  States,  and 
recognising  the  right,  to  a  certain  extent,  of  representa 
tion  of  the  slaves  in  Congress,  under  a  state  of  sentiment 
and  expectation  which  do  not  now  exist ;  and  that,  by 
events,  by  circumstances,  by  the  eagerness  of  the  South 
to  acquire  territory  and  extend  their  slave  population,  the 
North  finds  itself — in  regard  to  the  influence  of  the  South 
and  the  North,  of  the  free  States  and  the  slave  States — 
where  it  never  did  expect  to  find  itself  when  they  entered 
the  compact  of  the  Constitution.  They  complain,  there 
fore,  that,  instead  of  slavery  being  regarded  as  an  evil,  as 
it  was  then — an  evil  which  all  hoped  would  be  extinguished 
gradually — it  is  now  regarded  by  the  South  as  an  institu 
tion  to  be  cherished,  and  preserved,  and  extended;  an 
institution  which  the  South  has  already  extended  to  the 
utmost  of  her  power  by  the  acquisition  of  new  territory. 
Well,  then,  passing  from  that,  everybody  in  the  North 
reads ;  and  everybody  reads  whatsoever  the  newspapers 
contain  ;  and  the  newspapers — some  of  them,  especially 
those  presses  to  which  I  have  alluded — are  careful  to 
spread  about  among  the  people  every  reproachful  senti 
ment  uttered  by  any  Southern  man  bearing  at  all  against 
the  North  ;  every  thing  that  is  calculated  to  exasperate, 
to  alienate  ;  and  there  are  many  such  things,  as  every 
body  will  admit,  from  the  South  or  some  portion  of  it, 
which  are  spread  abroad  among  the  reading  people  ;  and 
they  do  exasperate,  and  alienate,  and  produce  a  most 
mischievous  effect  upon  the  public  mind  at  the  North. 
Sir,  I  would  not  notice  things  of  this  sort,  appearing  in 
obscure  quarters ;  but  one  thing  has  occurred  in  this  de 
bate  which  struck  me  very  forcibly.  An  honorable  mem 
ber  from  Louisiana  addressed  us  the  other  day  on  this 
subject.  I  suppose  there  is  not  a  more  amiable  and 
Worthy  gentleman  in  this  chamber — nor  a  gentleman  who 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  297 

would  be  more  slow  to  give  offence  to  anybody,  and  he 
did  not  mean  in  his  remarks  to  give  offence.  But  what 
did  he  say  ?  Why,  sir,  he  took  pains  to  run  a  contrast 
between  the  slaves  of  the  South  and  the  laboring  people 
of  the  North,  giving  the  preference  in  all  points  of  con 
dition,  and  comfort,  and  happiness,  to  the  slaves  of  the 
South.  The  honorable  member,  doubtless,  did  not  sup 
pose  that  he  gave  any  offence,  or  did  any  injustice.  He 
was  merely  expressing  his  opinion.  But  does  he  know 
how  remarks  of  that  sort  will  be  received  by  the  laboring 
people  of  the  North  ?  Why,  who  are  the  laboring  people 
of  the  North  ?  They  are  the  North.  They  are  the 
people  who  cultivate  their  own  farms  with  their  own 
hands  ;  freeholders,  educated  men,  independent  men.  Let 
me  say,  sir,  that  five-sixths  of  the  whole  property  of  the 
North  is  in  the  hands  of  the  laborers  of  the  North ;  they 
cultivate  their  farms,  they  educate  their  children,  they 
provide  the  means  of  independence ;  if  they  are  not  free 
holders,  they  earn  wages;  these  wages  accumulate,  are 
turned  into  capital,  into  new  freeholds,  and  small  capital 
ists  are  created.  That  is  the  case,  and  such  the  course 
of  things  with  us,  among  the  industrious  and  frugal. 
And  what  can  these  people  think,  when  so  respectable  and 
worthy  a  gentleman  as  the  member  from  Louisiana  under 
takes  to  prove  that  the  absolute  ignorance  and  the  abject 
slavery  of  the  South  is  more  in  conformity  with  the  high 
purposes  and  destiny  of  immortal,  rational,  human  beings, 
than  the  educated,  the  independent  free  laborers  of  the 
North  ?  There  is  a  more  tangible  and  irritating  cause  of 
grievance  at  the  North.  Free  blacks  are  constantly  em 
ployed  in  the  vessels  of  the  North,  generally  as  cooks  or 
stewards.  When  the  vessel  arrives,  these  free  colored  men 
are  taken  on  shore  by  the  police  or  municipal  authority, 
imprisoned,  and  kept  in  prison,  until  the  vessel  is  again 


298  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

ready  to  sail.  This  is  not  only  irritating,  but  exceedingly 
inconvenient  in  practice,  and  seems  altogether  impractica 
ble  and  oppressive.  Mr.  Hoar's  mission,  some  time  ago, 
to  South  Carolina,  was  a  well-intended  effort  to  remove 
this  cause  of  complaint.  The  North  think  such  im 
prisonments  illegal  and  unconstitutional.  As  the  cases 
occur  constantly  and  frequently,  they  think  it  a  great 
grievance. 

Now,  sir,  so  far  as  any  of  these  grievances  have  their 
foundation  in  matters  of  law,  they  can  be  redressed,  and 
ought  to  be  redressed ;  and  so  far  as  they  have  their 
foundation  in  matters  of  opinion,  in  sentiment,  in  mutual 
crimination  and  recrimination,  all  that  we  can  do  is,  to 
endeavor  to  allay  the  agitation,  and  cultivate  a  better  feel 
ing  and  more  fraternal  sentiments  between  the  South  and 
the  North. 

Mr.  President,  I  should  much  prefer  to  have  heard  from 
every  member  on  this  floor  declarations  of  opinion,  that 
this  Union  should  never  be  dissolved,  than  the  declarations 
of  opinion,  that,  in  any  case,  under  the  pressure  of  any 
circumstances,  such  a  dissolution  was  possible.  I  hear 
with  pain,  and  anguish,  and  distress,  the  word  secession, 
especially  when  it  falls  from  the  lips  of  those  who  are 
eminently  patriotic,  and  known  to  the  country,  and  known 
all  over  the  world,  for  their  political  services.  Secession ! 
Peaceable  secession  !  Sir,  your  eyes  and  mine  are  never 
destined  to  see  that  miracle.  The  dismemberment  of  this 
vast  country  without  convulsion !  The  breaking  up  of  the 
fountains  of  the  great  deep  without  ruffling  the  surface ! 
Who  is  so  foolish — I  beg  everybody's  pardon — as  to  ex 
pect  to  see  any  such  thing  ?  Sir,  he  who  sees  these  States 
now  revolving  in  harmony  around  a  common  centre,  expect 
ing  to  see  them  quit  their  places,  and  fly  off,  without  con 
vulsion,  may  look,  the  next  hour,  to  see  the  heavenly  bodies 


ON   THE   SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  299 

rush  from  their  spheres,  and  jostle  against  each  other  in 
the  realms  of  space,  without  producing  the  crash  of  the 
universe.  There  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a  peaceable 
secession.  Peaceable  secession  is  an  utter  impossibility. 
Is  the  great  Constitution  under  which  we  live  here,  cover 
ing  this  whole  country — is  it  to  be  thawed  and  melted 
away  by  secession,  as  the  snows  on  the  mountain  melt 
under  the  influence  of  a  vernal  sun — disappear  almost 
unobserved,  and  die  off?  No,  sir!  No,  sir!  I  will  not 
state  what  might  produce  the  disruption  of  the  States; 
but,  sir,  I  see  it  as  plainly  as  I  see  the  sun  in  heaven — I 
see  that  disruption  must  produce  such  a  war  as  I  will  not 
describe  in  its  twofold  character  ! 

Peaceable  secession !  peaceable  secession  !  The  con 
current  agreement  of  all  the  members  of  this  great  Re 
public  to  separate  !  A  voluntary  separation,  with  alimony 
on  one  side  and  on  the  other !  Why,  what  would  be  the 
result  ?  Where  is  the  line  to  be  drawn  ?  What  States  are 
to  secede  ?  What  is  to  remain  American  ?  What  am  I  to 
be  ?  An  American  no  longer  ?  Where  is  the  flag  of  the 
Republic  to  remain  ?  Where  is  the  eagle  still  to  tower  ?  or 
is  he  to  cower,  and  shriek,  and  fall  to  the  ground  ?  Why, 
sir,  our  ancestors — our  fathers  and  our  grandfathers,  those 
of  them  that  are  yet  living  amongst  us  with  prolonged 
lives — would  rebuke  and  reproach  us  ;  and  our  children 
arid  our  grandchildren  would  cry  out  shame  upon  us,  if  we 
of  this  generation  should  dishonor  these  ensigns  of  the 
power  of  the  Government  and  the  harmony  of  the  Union 
which  is  every  day  felt  among  us  with  so  much  joy  and 
gratitude.  What  is  to  become  of  the  army  ?  What  is  to 
become  of  the  navy  ?  What  is  to  become  of  the  public 
lands?  How  is  each  of  the  thirty  States  to  defend  itself? 
I  know,  although  the  idea  has  not  been  stated  distinctly. 
There  is  to  be  a  Southern  Confederacy.  I  do  not  mean, 


300         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

when  I  allude  to  this  statement,  that  any  one  seriously 
contemplates  such  a  state  of  things.  I  do  not  mean  to  say 
that  it  is  true,  but  I  have  heard  it  suggested  elsewhere, 
that  that  idea  has  originated  in  a  design  to  separate.  I  am 
sorry,  sir,  that  it  has  ever  been  thought  of,  talked  of,  or 
dreamed  of,  in  the  wildest  flights  of  human  imagination. 
But  the  idea  must  be  of  a  separation  including  the  slave 
States  upon  one  side,  and  the  free  States  on  the  other. 
Sir,  there  is  not — I  may  express  myself  too  strongly,  per 
haps,  but  some  things,  some  moral  things,  are  almost  as 
impossible  as  other  natural  or  physical  things ;  and  I  hold 
the  idea  of  a  separation  of  these  States,  those  that  are 
free  to  form  one  government,  and  those  that  are  slavehold- 
ing  to  form  another,  as  a  moral  impossibility.  We  could 
not  separate  the  States  by  any  such  line,  if  we  were  to 
draw  it.  We  could  not  sit  down  here  to-day,  and  draw  a 
line  of  separation  that  would  satisfy  any  five  men  in  the 
country.  There  are  natural  causes  that  would  keep  and 
tie  us  together  ;  and  there  are  social  and  domestic  relations 
which  we  could  not  break  if  we  would,  and  which  we  should 
not  if  we  could.  Sir,  nobody  can  look  over  the  face  of 
this  country  at  the  present  moment — nobody  can  see  where 
its  population  is  the  most  dense  and  growing — without 
being  ready  to  admit,  and  compelled  to  admit,  that  ere 
long  America  will  be  in  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi. 

Well,  now,  sir,  I  beg  to  inquire  what  the  wildest  enthu 
siast  has  to  say  on  the  possibility  of  cutting  off  that  river, 
and  leaving  free  States  at  its  source  and  its  branches,  and 
slave  States  down  near  its  mouth.  Pray,  sir,  pray,  sir,  let 
me  say  to  the  people  of  this  country,  that  these  things  are 
worthy  of  their  pondering  and  of  their  consideration.  Here, 
sir,  are  five  millions  of  freemen  in  the  free  States  north  of 
the  river  Ohio ;  can  anybody  suppose  that  this  population 
can  be  severed  by  a  line  that  divides  them  from  the  ter- 


ON   THE    SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  301 

ritory  of  a  foreign  and  an  alien  government,  down  some 
where,  the  Lord  knows  where,  upon  the  lower  banks  of  the 
Mississippi  ?  What  would  become  of  Missouri  ?  Will  she 
join  the  arrondissement  of  the  slave  States  ?  Shall  the 
man  from  the  Yellow  Stone  and  the  Platte  River  be  con 
nected,  in  the  new  Republic,  with  the  man  who  lives  on  the 
southern  extremity  of  the  Cape  of  Florida  ?  Sir,  I  am 
ashamed  to  pursue  this  line  of  remark.  I  dislike  it ;  I 
have  an  utter  disgust  for  it.  I  would  rather  hear  of  natural 
blasts  and  mildews,  war,  pestilence,  and  famine,  than  to 
hear  gentlemen  talk  of  secession.  To  break  up — to  break 
up  this  great  Government — to  dismember  this  great  country 
— to  astonish  Europe  with  an  act  of  folly  such  as  Europe 
for  two  centuries  has  never  beheld  in  any  Government ! 
No,  sir ;  no,  sir  !  There  will  be  no  secession.  Gentlemen 
are  not  serious  when  they  talk  of  secession ! 

Sir,  I  hear  there  is  to  be  a  convention  held  at  Nashville. 
I  am  bound  to  believe,  that,  if  worthy  gentlemen  meet  at 
Nashville  in  convention,  their  object  will  be  to  adopt  coun 
sels  conciliatory — to  advise  the  South  to  forbearance  and 
moderation,  and  to  advise  the  North  to  forbearance  and 
moderation,  and  to  inculcate  principles  of  brotherly  love 
and  affection,  and  attachment  to  the  Constitution  of  the 
country  as  it  now  is.  I  believe,  if  the  convention  meet  at 
all,  it  will  be  for  this  purpose ;  for  certainly,  if  they  meet 
for  any  purpose  hostile  to  the  Union,  they  have  been  sin 
gularly  inappropriate  in  their  selection  of  a  place.  I 
remember,  sir,  that  when  the  treaty  was  concluded  between 
France  and  England  at  the  peace  of  Amiens,  a  stern  old 
Englishman,  and  an  orator,  who  disliked  the  terms  of  the 
peace  as  ignominious  to  England,  said  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  that,  if  King  William  could  know  the  terms  of 
that  treaty,  he  would  turn  in  his  coffin.  Let  me  commend 
the  saying  of  Mr.  Windham,  in  all  its  emphasis  and  in  all 

26 


302         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

its  force,  to  any  persons  who  shall  meet  at  Nashville  for 
the  purpose  of  concerting  measures  for  the  overthrow  of 
the  Union  of  this  country  over  the  bones  of  Andrew 
Jackson. 

Sir,  I  wish  to  make  two  remarks,  and  hasten  to  a  con 
clusion.  I  wish  to  say,  in  regard  to  Texas,  that  if  it  should 
be  hereafter  at  any  time  the  pleasure  of  the  Government 
of  Texas  to  cede  to  the  United  States  a  portion,  larger  or 
smaller,  of  her  territory  which  lies  adjacent  to  New  Mexico, 
and  north  of  34°  of  north  latitude,  to  be  formed  into  free 
States,  for  a  fair  equivalent  in  money,  or  in  the  payment 
of  her  debt,  I  think  it  an  object  well  worthy  the  considera 
tion  of  Congress,  and  I  shall  be  happy  to  concur  in  it 
myself,  if  I  should  be  in  the  public  councils  of  the  country 
at  the  time. 

I  have  one  other  remark  to  make.  In  my  observations 
upon  slavery,  as  it  has  existed  in  the  country,  and  as  it 
now  exists,  I  have  expressed  no  opinion  of  the  mode  of  its 
extinguishment  or  amelioration.  I  will  say,  however, 
though  I  have  nothing  to  propose  on  that  subject,  because 
I  do  not  deem  myself  competent  as  other  gentlemen  to  con 
sider  it,  that  if  any  gentleman  from  the  South  shall  propose 
a  scheme  of  colonization,  to  be  carried  on  by  this  Govern 
ment,  upon  a  large  scale,  for  the  transportation  of  free 
colored  people  to  any  colony,  or  any  place  in  the  world,  I 
should  be  quite  disposed  to  incur  almost  any  degree  of  ex 
pense  to  accomplish  that  object.  Nay,  sir,  following  an 
example  set  here  more  than  twenty  years  ago,  by  a  great 
man,  then  a  Senator  from  New  York,  I  would  return  to 
Virginia — and  through  her,  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole 
South — the  money  received  from  the  lands  and  territories 
ceded  by  her  to  this  Government,  for  any  such  purpose  as 
to  relieve,  in  whole  or  in  part,  or  in  any  way  to  diminish 
or  deal  beneficially  with  the  free  colored  population  of  the 


ON   THE   SLAVERY   COMPROMISE.  308 

Southern  States.  I  have  said  that  I  honor  Virginia  for 
her  cession  of  this  territory.  There  have  been  received 
into  the  treasury  of  the  United  States  eighty  millions  of 
dollars,  the  proceeds  of  the  sales  of  public  lands  ceded  by 
Virginia.  If  the  residue  should  be  sold  at  the  same  rate, 
the  whole  aggregate  will  exceed  two  hundred  millions  of 
dollars.  If  Virginia  and  the  South  see  fit  to  adopt  any 
proposition  to  relieve  themselves  from  the  free  people  of 
color  among  them,  they  have  my  free  consent  that  the 
Government  shall  pay  them  any  sum  of  money  out  of  its 
proceeds  which  may  be  adequate  to  the  purpose. 

And  now,  Mr.  President,  I  draw  these  observations  to  a 
close.  I  have  spoken  freely,  and  I  meant  to  do  so.  I 
have  sought  to  make  no  display ;  I  have  sought  to  enliven 
the  occasion  by  no  animated  discussion ;  nor  have  I  at 
tempted  any  train  of  elaborate  argument.  I  have  sought 
only  to  speak  my  sentiments,  fully  and  at  large,  being 
desirous,  once  and  for  all,  to  let  the  Senate  know,  and  to 
let  the  country  know,  the  opinions  and  sentiments  which  I 
entertain  on  all  these  subjects.  These  opinions  are  not 
likely  to  be  suddenly  changed.  If  there  be  any  future 
service  that  I  can  render  to  the  country,  consistently  with 
these  sentiments  and  opinions,  I  shall  cheerfully  render  it. 
If  there  be  not,  I  shall  still  be  glad  to  have  had  an  op 
portunity  to  disburden  my  conscience  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart,  and  to  make  known  every  political  sentiment 
that  therein  exists. 

And  now,  Mr.  President,  instead  of  speaking  of  the 
possibility  or  utility  of  secession,  instead  of  dwelling  in 
these  caverns  of  darkness,  instead  of  groping  with  those 
ideas  so  full  of  all  that  is  horrid  and  horrible,  let  us  come 
out  into  the  light  of  day ;  let  us  enjoy  the  fresh  airs  of 
Liberty  and  Union  ;  let  us  cherish  those  hopes  which  belong 
to  us ;  let  us  devote  ourselves  to  those  great  objects  that 


304  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

are  fit  for  our  consideration  and  our  action ;  let  us  i  aise 
our  conceptions  to  the  magnitude  and  the  importance  of 
the  duties  that  devolve  upon  us ;  let  our  comprehension  be 
as  broad  as  the  country  for  which  we  act,  our  aspirations 
as  high  as  its  certain  destiny;  let  us  not  be  pygmies  in  a 
case  that  calls  for  men.  Never  did  there  devolve  on  any 
generation  of  men  higher  trusts  than  now  devolve  upon  us 
for  the  preservation  of  this  Constitution,  and  the  harmony 
and  peace  of  all  who  are  destined  to  live  under  it.  Let  us 
make  our  generation  one  of  the  strongest  and  the  brightest 
links  in  that  golden  chain  which  is  destined,  I  fondly 
believe,  to  grapple  the  people  of  all  the  States  to  this  Con 
stitution,  for  ages  to  come.  It  is  a  great  popular  constitu 
tional  Government,  guarded  by  legislation,  by  law,  by 
judicature,  and  defended  by  the  whole  affections  of  the 
people.  No  monarchical  throne  presses  these  States  to 
gether  ;  no  iron  chain  of  despotic  power  encircles  them ; 
they  live  and  stand  upon  a  Government  popular  in  its  form, 
representative  in  its  character,  founded  upon  principles  of 
equality,  and  calculated,  we  hope,  to  last  forever.  In  all 
its  history  it  has  been  beneficent ;  it  has  trodden  down  no 
man's  liberty  ;  it  has  crushed  no  State.  Its  daily  respira 
tion  is  liberty  and  patriotism,  its  yet  youthful  veins  are  full 
of  enterprise,  courage,  and  honorable  love  of  glory  and 
renown.  Large  before,  the  country  has  now,  by  recent 
events,  become  vastly  larger.  This  Republic  now  extends, 
with  a  vast  breadth,  across  the  whole  Continent.  The  two 
great  seas  of  the  world  wash  the  one  and  the  other  shore. 
We  realize,  on  a  mighty  scale,  the  beautiful  description  of 
the  ornamental  edging  of  the  buckler  of  Achilles : 

"  Now  the  broad  shield  complete  the  artist  crown'd 
With  his  last  hand,  and  pour'd  the  ocean  round  ; 
In  living  silver  seeni'd  the  waves  to  roll, 
And  beat  the  buckler's  verge,  and  bound  the  whole." 


III. 

SPEECH  ON  THE  GREEK  REVOLUTION, 

Delivered  in   the  House  of  Representatives  of  the  United  States, 
January  19,  1823, 


ON  the  8th  of  December,  1823,  Mr.  Webster  presented, 
in  the  House  of  Representatives,  the  following  resolution  : 

"Resolved,  That  provision  ought  to  be  made,  by  law,  for 
defraying  the  expense  incident  to  the  appointment  of  an 
agent  or  commissioner  to  Greece,  whenever  the  President 
shall  deem  it  expedient  to  make  such  appointment." 

The  House  having,  on  the  19th  of  January,  resolved 
itself  into  a  Committee  of  the  Whole,  and  this  resolution 
being  taken  into  consideration,  Mr.  Webster  spoke  to  the 
following  effect : 

I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Chairman,  that,  so  far  as  my  part  in 
this  discussion  is  concerned,  those  expectations  which  the 
public  excitement,  existing  on  the  subject,  and  certain 
associations,  easily  suggested  by  it,  have  conspired  to  raise, 
may  be  disappointed.  An  occasion  which  calls  the  atten 
tion  to  a  spot,  so  distinguished,  so  connected  with  interest- 
ng  recollections,  as  Greece,  may  naturally  create  something 
of  warmth  and  enthusiasm.  In  a  grave,  political  discus 
sion,  however,  it  is  necessary  that  that  feeling  should  be 
chastised.  I  shall  endeavor  properly  to  repress  it,  although 
it  is  impossible  that  it  should  be  altogether  extinguished. 
We  must,  indeed,  fly  beyond  the  civilized  world,  we  must 

26*  30*. 


806  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

pass  the  dominion  of  law,  and  the  boundaries  of  know 
ledge  ;  we  must,  more  especially,  withdraw  ourselves  from 
this  place,  and  the  scenes  and  objects  which  here  surround 
us,  if  we  would  separate  ourselves,  entirely,  from  the  in 
fluence  of  all  those  memorials  of  herself  which  ancient 
Greece  has  transmitted  for  the  admiration  and  the  benefit 
of  mankind.  This  free  form  of  government,  this  popular 
assembly,  the  common  council  held  for  the  common  good, 
where  have  we  contemplated  its  earliest  models  ?  This 
practice  of  free  debate,  and  public  discussion,  the  contest 
of  mind  with  mind,  and  that  popular  eloquence  which,  if 
it  were  now  here,  on  a  subject  like  this,  would  move  the 
stones  of  the  Capitol, — whose  was  the  language  in  which 
all  these  were  first  exhibited  ?  Even  the  edifice  in  which 
we  assemble,  these  proportioned  columns,  this  ornamented 
architecture,  all  remind  us  that  Greece  has  existed,  and 
that  we,  like  the  rest  of  mankind,  are  greatly  her  debtors. 
But  I  have  not  introduced  this  motion  in  the  vain  hope  of 
discharging  any  thing  of  this  accumulated  debt  of  cen 
turies.  I  have  not  acted  upon  the  expectation,  that  we, 
who  have  inherited  this  obligation  from  our  ancestors, 
should  now  attempt  to  pay  it  to  those  who  may  seem  to 
have  inherited  from  their  ancestors  a  right  to  receive  pay 
ment.  My  object  is  nearer  and  more  immediate.  I  wish 
to  take  occasion  of  the  struggle  of  an  interesting  and 
gallant  people,  in  the  cause  of  liberty  and  Christianity,  to 
draw  the  attention  of  the  House  to  the  circumstances 
which  have  accompanied  that  struggle,  and  to  the  prin 
ciples  which  appear  to  have  governed  the  conduct  of  the 
great  States  of  Europe  in  regard  to  it;  and  to  the  effects 
and  consequences  of  these  principles  upon  the  indepen 
dence  of  nations,  and  especially  upon  the  institutions  of 
free  governments.  What  I  have  to  say  of  Greece,  there 
fore,  concerns  the  modern,  not  the  ancient ;  the  living,  and 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  307 

not  the  dead.  It  regards  her,  not  as  she  exists  in  history, 
triumphant  over  time,  and  tyranny,  and  ignorance ;  but  as 
she  now  is,  contending  against  fearful  odds  for  being,  and 
for  the  common  privilege  of  human  nature. 

As  it  is  never  difficult  to  recite  commonplace  remarks, 
and  trite  aphorisms ;  so  it  may  be  easy,  I  am  aware,  on 
this  occasion,  to  remind  me  of  the  wisdom  which  dictates 
to  men  a  care  of  their  own  affairs,  and  admonishes  them, 
instead  of  searching  for  adventures  abroad,  to  leave  other 
men's  concerns  in  their  own  hands.  It  may  be  easy  to  calf 
this  resolution  Quixotic,  the  emanation  of  a  crusading  01 
propagandist  spirit.  All  this,  and  more,  may  be  readilj 
said ;  but  all  this,  and  more,  will  not  be  allowed  to  fix  a 
character  upon  this  proceeding,  until  that  is  proved,  which 
it  takes  for  granted.  Let  it  first  be  shown,  that,  in  thip 
question,  there  is  nothing  which  can  affect  the  interest,  the 
character,  or  the  duty  of  this  country.  Let  it  be  proved, 
that  we  are  not  called  upon  by  either  of  these  considera 
tions,  to  express  an  opinion  on  the  subject  to  which  the 
resolution  relates.  Let  this  be  proved,  and  then  it  will, 
indeed,  be  made  out,  that  neither  ought  this  resolution  to 
pass,  nor  ought  the  subject  of  it  to  have  been  mentioned 
in  the  communication  of  the  President  to  us.  But,  in  my 
opinion,  this  cannot  be  shown.  In  my  judgment,  the  sub 
ject  is  interesting  to  the  people  and  the  Government  of 
this  country,  and  we  are  called  upon,  by  considerations  of 
great  weight  and  moment,  to  express  our  opinions  upon  it. 
These  considerations,  I  think,  spring  from  a  sense  of  our 
own  duty,  our  character,  and  our  own  interest.  I  wish  to 
treat  the  subject  on  such  grounds,  exclusively,  as  are  truly 
American;  but  then,  in  considering  it  as  an  American 
question,  I  cannot  forget  the  age  in  which  we  live,  the  pre 
vailing  spirit  of  the  age,  the  interesting  questions  which 
agitate  it,  and  our  own  peculiar  relation  in  regard  to  these 


308  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

interesting  questions.  Let  this  be,  then,  and  as  far  as  I 
am  concerned  I  hope  it  will  be,  purely  an  American  dis 
cussion  ;  but  let  it  embrace,  nevertheless,  every  thing  that 
fairly  concerns  America;  let  it  comprehend,  not  merely 
her  present  advantage,  but  her  permanent  interest,  her 
elevated  character,  as  one  of  the  free  States  of  the  world, 
and  her  duty  toward  those  great  principles,  which  have 
hitherto  maintained  the  relative  independence  of  nations, 
and  which  have,  more  especially,  made  her  what  she  is. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  session,  the  President,  in 
the  discharge  of  the  high  duties  of  his  office,  called  our 
attention  to  the  subject  to  which  this  resolution  refers. 
"  A  strong  hope,"  says  that  communication,  "  has  been 
long  entertained,  founded  on  the  heroic  struggle  of  the 
Greeks,  that  they  would  succeed  in  their  contest,  and  re 
sume  their  equal  station  among  the  nations  of  the  earth. 
It  is  believed  that  the  whole  civilized  world  takes  a  deep 
interest  in  their  welfare.  Although  no  power  has  declared 
in  their  favor,  yet  none,  according  to  our  information,  has 
taken  part  against  them.  Their  cause  and  their  name 
have  protected  them  from  dangers,  which  might,  ere  this, 
have  overwhelmed  any  other  people.  The  ordinary  cal 
culations  of  interest,  and  of  acquisition  with  a  view  to 
aggrandizement,  which  mingle  so  much  in  the  transactions 
of  nations,  seem  to  have  had  no  effect  in  regard  to  them. 
From  the  facts  which  have  come  to  our  knowledge,  there  is 
good  cause  to  believe  that  their  enemy  has  lost,  forever,  all 
dominion  over  them ;  that  Greece  will  become  again  an 
independent  nation." 

It  has  appeared  to  me,  that  the  House  should  adopt 
some  resolution,  reciprocating  these  sentiments  so  far  as  it 
should  approve  them.  More  than  twenty  years  have 
elapsed,  since  Congress  first  ceased  to  receive  such  a  com 
munication  from  the  President,  as  could  properly  be  made 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  309 

the  subject  of  a  general  answer.  I  do  not  mean  to  find 
fault  with  this  relinquishinent  of  a  former,  and  an  ancient 
practice.  It  may  have  been  attended  with  inconveniences 
which  justified  its  abolition.  But,  certainly,  there  was 
one  advantage  belonging  to  it ;  and  that  is,  that  it  fur 
nished  a  fit  opportunity  for  the  expression  of  the  opinion 
of  the  Houses  of  Congress,  upon  those  topics  in  the 
executive  communication,  which  were  not  expected  to  be 
made  the  immediate  subjects  of  direct  legislation.  Since., 
therefore,  the  President's  message  does  not  now  receive  a 
general  answer,  it  has  seemed  to  me  to  be  proper,  that  in 
some  mode,  agreeable  to  our  own  usual  form  of  proceed 
ing,  we  should  express  our  sentiments  upon  the  important 
and  interesting  topics  on  which  it  treats. 

If  the  sentiments  of  the  message  in  respect  to  Greece 
be  proper,  it  is  equally  proper  that  this  House  should  re 
ciprocate  those  sentiments.  The  present  resolution  is 
designed  to  have  that  extent,  and  no  more.  If  it  pass,  it 
will  leave  any  future  proceeding  where  it  now  is,  in  the 
discretion  of  the  Executive  Government.  It  ;s  but  an  ex 
pression,  under  those  forms  in  which  the  House  is  ac 
customed  to  act,  of  the  satisfaction  of  the  House  with  the 
general  sentiments  expressed  in  regard  to  this  subject  in 
the  message,  and  of  its  readiness  to  defray  the  expense  in 
cident  to  any  inquiry  for  the  purpose  of  further  informa 
tion,  or  any  other  agency  which  the  President,  in  his 
discretion,  shall  see  fit,  in  whatever  manner,  and  at  what 
ever  time,  to  institute.  The  whole  matter  is  still  left  in 
his  judgment,  and  this  resolution  can  in  no  way  restrain 
its  unlimited  exercise. 

I  might  well,  Mr.  Chairman,  avoid  the  responsibility 
of  this  measure,  if  it  had,  in  my  judgment,  any  tendency 
to  change  the  policy  of  the  country.  With  the  general 
course  of  that  policy  I  am  quite  satisfied.  The  nation  is 


310  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

prosperous,  peaceful,  and  happy;  and  I  should  very  re 
luctantly  put  its  peace,  prosperity,  or  happiness,  at  risk. 
It  appears  to  me,  however,  that  this  resolution  is  strictly 
conformable  to  our  general  policy,  and  not  only  consistent 
with  our  interests,  but  even  demanded  by  a  large  and 
liberal  view  of  those  interests. 

It  is  certainly  true,  that  the  just  policy  of  this  country 
is,  in  the  first  place,  a  peaceful  policy.  No  nation  ever 
had  less  to  expect  from  forcible  aggrandizement.  The 
mighty  agents  which  are  working  out  our  greatness,  are 
time,  industry,  and  the  arts.  Our  augmentation  is  by 
growth,  not  by  acquisition  ;  by  internal  development,  not 
by  external  accession.  No  schemes  can  be  suggested  to 
us,  so  magnificent  as  the  prospects  which  a  sober  con 
templation  of  our  own  condition,  unaided  by  projects, 
uninfluenced  by  ambition,  fairly  spreads  before  us.  A 
country  of  such  vast  extent,  with  such  varieties  of  soil 
and  climate  ;  with  so  much  public  spirit  and  private  enter 
prise;  with  a  population  increasing  so  much  beyond  former 
examples,  with  capacities  of  improvement  not  only  unap 
plied  or  unexhausted,  but  even,  in  a  great  measure,  as  yet, 
unexplored  ;  so  free  in  its  institutions,  so  mild  in  its  laws, 
so  secure  in  the  title  it  confers  on  every  man  to  his  own 
acquisitions  ;  needs  nothing  but  time  and  peace  to  carry  it 
forward  to  almost  any  point  of  advancement. 

In  the  next  place,  I  take  it  for  granted,  that  the  policy 
of  this  country,  springing  from  the  nature  of  our  Govern 
ment,  and  the  spirit  of  all  our  institutions,  is,  so  far  as  it 
respects  the  interesting  l  questions  which  agitate  the  pre 
sent  age,  on  the  side  of  liberal  and  enlightened  senti 
ments.  The  age  is  extraordinary;  the  spirit  that  actuates 
it,  is  peculiar  and  marked ;  and  our  own  relation  to  the 
times  we  live  in,  and  to  the  questions  which  interest  them, 
is  equally  marked  and  peculiar.  We  are  placed,  by  our 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  311 

good  fortune,  and  the  wisdom  and  valor  of  our  am<jstors, 
in  a  condition  in  which  we  can  act  no  obscure  part.  Be  it 
for  honor,  or  be  it  for  dishonor,  whatever  we  dc7  is  not 
likely  to  escape  the  observation  of  the  world.  Ah  one  of 
the  free  States  among  the  nations,  as  a  great  and  rapidly- 
rising  republic,  it  would  be  impossible  for  us,  if  we  were 
so  disposed,  to  prevent  our  principles,  our  sentiments,  and 
our  example,  from  producing  some  effect  upon  the  opinions 
and  hopes  of  society  throughout  the  civilized  "\\orld.  It 
rests  probably  with  ourselves  to  determine,  whether  the 
influence  of  these  shall  be  salutary  or  pernicious. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  great  political  question  of 
this  age,  is  that  between  absolute  and  regulated  govern 
ments.  The  substance  of  the  controversy  is,  whether 
society  shall  have  any  part  in  its  own  government. 
Whether  the  form  of  government  shall  be  that  of  limited 
monarchy,  with  more  or  less  mixture  of  hereditary  power, 
or  wholly  elective,  or  representative,  may  perhaps  be 
considered  as  subordinate.  The  main  controversy  is  be 
tween  that  absolute  rule,  which,  while  it  promises  to 
govern  well,  means  nevertheless  to. govern  without  con 
trol,  and  that  regulated  or  constitutional  system,  which 
restrains  sovereign  discretion,  and  asserts  that  society  may 
claim,  as  matter  of  right,  some  effective  power  in  the 
establishment  of  the  laws  which  are  to  regulate  it.  The 
spirit  of  the  times  sets  with  a  most  powerful  current,  in 
favor  of  these  last-mentioned  opinions.  It  is  opposed, 
however,  whenever  and  wherever  it  shows  itself,  by  certain 
of  the  great  potentates  of  Europe ;  and  it  is  opposed  on 
grounds  as  applicable  in  one  civilized  nation  as  in  another, 
and  which  would  justify  such  opposition  in  relation  to 
the  United  States,  as  well  as  in  relation  to  any  other 
state  or  nation,  if  time  and  circumstance  should  render 
such  opposition  expedient. 


312          SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

What  part  it  becomes  this  country  to  take  on  a  question 
of  this  sort,  so  far  as  it  is  called  upon  to  take  any  part, 
cannot  be  doubtful.  Our  side  of  this  question  is  settled 
for  us,  even  without  our  own  volition.  Our  history,  our 
situation,  our  character,  necessarily  decide  our  position 
and  our  course,  before  we  have  even  time  to  ask  whether 
we  have  an  option.  Our  place  is  on  the  side  of  free  institu 
tions.  From  the  earliest  settlement  of  these  States,  their 
inhabitants  were  accustomed,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
to  the  enjoyment  of  the  powers  of  self-government ;  and 
for  the  last  half-century,  they  have  sustained  systems  of 
government  entirely  representative,  yielding  to  themselves 
the  greatest  possible  prosperity,  and  not  leaving  them  with 
out  distinction  and  respect  among  the  nations  of  the  earth. 
This  system  we  are  not  likely  to  abandon ;  and  while  we 
shall  no  further  recommend  its  adoption  to  other  nations, 
in  whole  or  in  part,  than  it  may  recommend  itself  by  its 
visible  influence  on  our  own  growth  and  prosperity,  we  are, 
nevertheless,  interested  to  resist  the  establishment  of  doc 
trines  which  deny  the  legality  of  its  foundations.  We 
stand  as  an  equal  anrong  nations,  claiming  the  full  benefit 
of  the  established  international  law;  and  it  is  our  duty  to 
oppose,  from  the  earliest  to  the  latest  moment,  any  innova 
tions  upon  that  code,  which  shall  bring  into  doubt  or  ques 
tion  our  own  equal  and  independent  rights. 

I  will  now,  Mr.  Chairman,  advert  to  those  pretensions, 
put  forth  by  the  Allied  Sovereigns  of  continental  Europe, 
which  seem  to  me  calculated,  if  unresisted,  to  bring  into 
disrepute  the  principles  of  our  Government,  and  indeed  to 
be  wholly  incompatible  with  any  degree  of  national  inde 
pendence.  I  do  not  introduce  these  considerations  for  the 
Bake  of  topics.  I  am  not  about  to  declaim  against  crowned 
heads,  nor  to  quarrel  with  any  country  for  preferring  a 
form  of  government  different  from  our  own.  The  choice 


ON    THE    GREEK    REVOLUTION.  313 

fhat  we  exercise  for  ourselves,  I  am  quite  willing  to  leave 
nlso  to  others.  But  it  appears  to  me  that  the  pretensions 
of  which  I  have  spoken  are  wholly  inconsistent  with  the 
independence  of  nations  generally,  without  regard  to  the 
question,  whether  their  governments  be  absolute,  mon 
archical  and  limited,  or  purely  popular  and  representa 
tive.  I  have  a  most  deep  and  thorough  conviction,  that  a 
new  era  has  arisen  in  the  world,  that  new  and  dangerous 
combinations  are  taking  place,  promulgating  doctrines,  and 
fraught  with  consequences,  wholly  subversive,  in  their  ten 
dency,  of  the  public  law  of  nations,  and  of  the  general 
liberties  of  mankind.  Whether  this  be  so,  or  not,  is  the 
question  which  I  now  propose  to  examine,  upon  such 
grounds  of  information,  as  the  common  and  public  means 
of  knowledge  disclose. 

Everybody  knows  that,  since  the  final  restoration  of  the 
Bourbons  to  the  throne  of  France,  the  continental  powers 
have  entered  into  sundry  alliances,  which  have  been  made 
public,  and  have  held  several  meetings  or  Congresses,  at 
which  the  principles  of  their  political  conduct  have  been 
declared.  These  things  must  necessarily  have  an  effect 
upon  the  international  law  of  the  states  of  the  world.  If 
tfiat  effect  be  good,  and  according  to  the  principles  of  that 
law,  they  deserve  to  be  applauded.  If,  on  the  contrary, 
their  effect  and  tendency  be  most  dangerous,  their  prin 
ciples  wholly  inadmissible,  their  pretensions  such  as  would 
abolish  every  degree  of  national  independence,  then  they 
are  to  be  resisted. 

1  begin,  Mr.  Chairman,  by  drawing  your  attention  to  the 
treaty,  concluded  at  Paris  in  September,  1815,  between 
Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria,  commonly  called  the  Holy 
Alliance.  This  singular  alliance  appears  to  have  originated 
with  the  Emperor  of  Russia ;  for  we  are  informed  that  a 
draught  of  it  was  exhibited  by  him,  personally,  to  a  pleni 

27 


814  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

potentiary  of  one  of  the  great  powers  of  Europe,  before 
it  was  presented  to  the  other  sovereigns  who  ultimately 
signed  it.*  This  instrument  professes  nothing,  certainly, 
which  is  not  extremely  commendable  and  praiseworthy.  It 
promises  only  that  the  contracting  parties,  both  in  relation 
to  other  states,  and  in  regard  to  their  own  subjects,  will 
observe  the  rules  of  justice  and  Christianity.  In  confirma 
tion  of  these  promises,  it  makes  the  most  solemn  and  de 
vout  religious  invocations.  Now,  although  such  an  alliance 
is  a  novelty  in  European  history,  the  world  seems  to  have 
received  this  treaty,  upon  its  first  promulgation,  with 
general  charity.  It  was  commonly  understood  as  little  or 
nothing  more  than  an  expression  of  thanks  for  the  success 
ful  termination  of  the  momentous  contest  in  which  those 
sovereigns  had  been  engaged.  It  still  seems  somewhat 
unaccountable,  however,  that  these  good  resolutions  should 
require  to  be  confirmed  by  treaty.  Who  doubted,  that 
these  august  sovereigns  would  treat  each  other  with  justice^ 
and  rule  their  own  subjects  in  mercy  ?  And  what  necessity 
was  there,  for  a  solemn  stipulation  by  treaty,  to  insure  the 
performance  of  that,  which  is  no  more  than  the  ordinary 
duty  of  every  Government  ?  It  would  hardly  be  admitted 
by  these  sovereigns,  that,  by  this  compact,  they  suppose 
themselves  bound  to  introduce  an  entire  change,  or  any 
change,  in  the  course  of  their  own  conduct.  Nothing  sub 
stantially  new,  certainly,  can  be  supposed  to  have  been 
intended.  What  principle,  or  what  practice,  therefore, 
called  for  this  solemn  declaration  of  the  intention  of  the 
parties  to  observe  the  rules  of  religion  and  justice  ? 

It  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  that  a  writer  of  reputation 


*  Vide  Lord  Castlereagh's  Speech  in  the  House  of  Commons,  February 
3,  1816.  Debates  in  Parliament,  vol.  xxxvi.  page  355  ;  where  also  the 
Treaty  may  be  found  at  length 


ON   THE    GREEK    REVOLUTION.  315 

upon  the  Public  Law,  described,  many  years  ago,  not  in 
accurately,  the  character  of  this  alliance :  I  allude  to 
Puffendorff.  "It  seems  useless/'  says  he,  "to  frame  any 
pacts  or  leagues  barely  for  the  defence  and  support  of 
universal  peace ;  for,  by  such  a  league,  nothing  is  super- 
added  to  the  obligation  of  natural  law,  and  no  agreement 
is  made  for  the  performance  of  any  thing,  which  the  parties 
were  not  previously  bound  to  perform  ;  nor  is  the  original 
obligation  rendered  firmer  or  stronger  by  such  an  addition. 
Men  of  any  tolerable  culture  and  civilization  might  well 
be  ashamed  of  entering  into  any  such  compact,  the  condi 
tions  of  which  imply  only  that  the  parties  concerned  shall 
not  offend  in  any  clear  point  of  duty.  Besides,  we  should 
be  guilty  of  great  irreverence  toward  God,  should  we  sup 
pose  that  his  injunctions  had  not  already -laid  a  sufficient 
obligation  upon  us  to  act  justly,  unless  we  ourselves  volun 
tarily  consented  to  the  same  engagement :  as  if  our  obliga 
tion  to  obey  his  will  depended  upon  our  own  pleasure. 

"  If  one  engage  to  serve  another,  he  does  not  set  it 
down  expressly  and  particularly  among  the  terms  and 
conditions  of  the  bargain,  that  he  will  not  betray  nor 
murder  him,  nor  pillage  nor  burn  his  house.  For  the 
same  reason,  that  would  be  a  dishonorable  engagement  in 
which  men  should  bind  themselves  to  act  properly  and 
decently,  and  not  break  the  peace."* 

Such  were  the  sentiments  of  that  eminent  writer.  How 
nearly  he  had  anticipated  the  case  of  the  Holy  Alliance, 
will  appear  from  comparing  his  observations  with  the  pre 
amble  to  that  alliance,  which  is  as  follows  : 

"  In  the  name  of  the  most  Holy  and  Indivisible  Trinity, 
their  Majesties  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  the  King  of 
Prussia,  and  the  Emperor  of  Russia," — "solemnly  de- 

*  Book  2,  chap.  ii. 


316  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

clare,  that  the  present  act  has  no  other  object  than  to 
publish,  in  the  face  of  the  whole  world,  their  fixed  resolu« 
tion,  both  in  the  administration  of  their  respective  States, 
and  in  their  political  relations  with  every  other  Govern 
ment,  to  take  for  their  sole  guide  the  precepts  of  that 
holy  religion, — namely :  the  precepts  of  justice,  Christian 
charity,  and  peace,  which,  far  from  being  applicable  only 
to  private  concerns,  must  have  an  immediate  influence  on 
the  councils  of  princes,  and  guide  all  their  steps,  as  being 
the  only  means  of  consolidating  human  institutions,  and 
remedying  their  imperfections." 

This  measure,  however,  appears  principally  important, 
as  it  was  the  first  of  a  series,  and  was  followed  afterward 
by  others  of  a  more  marked  and  practical  nature.  These 
measures,  taken  together,  profess  to  establish  two  princi 
ples,  which  the  Allied  Powers  would  enforce,  as  a  part 
of  the  law  of  the  civilized  world ;  and  the  establishment 
of  which  is  menaced  by  a  million  and  a  half  of  bayonets. 

The  first  of  these  principles  is,  that  all  popular,  or 
constitutional  rights,  are  holden  no  otherwise  than  as 
grants  from  the  crown.  Society,  upon  this  principle,  has 
no  rights  of  its  own ;  it  takes  good  government,  when  it 
gets  it,  as  a  boon  and  a  concession,  but  can  demand 
nothing.  It  is  to  live  in  that  favor  which  emanates  from 
royal  authority,  and  if  it  have  the  misfortune  to  lose  that 
favor,  there  is  nothing  to  protect  it  against  any  degree  of 
injustice  and  oppression.  It  can  rightfully  make  no  en 
deavor  for  a  change,  by  itself;  its  whole  privilege  is  to 
receive  the  favors  that  may  be  dispensed  by  the  sovereign 
power,  and  all  its  duty  is  described  in  the  single  word 
submission.  This  is  the  plain  result  of  the  principal  con 
tinental  state  papers ;  indeed,  it  is  nearly  the  identical  text 
of  some  of  tLem. 

The    Laybach   circular  of  May,   1821,   alleges,    "  that 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  817 

useful  and  necessary  changes  in  legislation  and  administra 
tion  ought  only  to  emanate  from  the  free  will  and  in 
telligent  conviction  of  those  whom  God  has  rendered 
responsible  for  power ;  all  that  deviates  from  this  line 
necessarily  leads  to  disorder,  commotions,  and  evils,  far 
more  insufferable  than  those  which  they  pretend  to 
remedy."*  Now,  sir,  this  principle  would  carry  Europe 
back  again,  at  once,  into  the  middle  of  the  dark  ages.  It 
is  the  old  doctrine  of  the  divine  right  of  kings,  advanced 
now  by  new  advocates,  and  sustained  by  a  formidable 
array  of  power.  That  the  people  hold  their  fundamental 
privileges,  as  matter  of  concession  or  indulgence,  from  the 
sovereign  power,  is  a  sentiment  not  easy  to  be  diffused  in 
this  age,  any  further  than  it  is  enforced  by  the  direct 
operation  of  military  means.  It  is  true,  certainly,  that 
some  six  centuries  ago,  the  early  founders  of  English 
liberty  called  the  instrument  which  secured  their  rights  a 
Charter  ;  it  was,  indeed,  a  concession ;  they  had  obtained 
it,  sword  in  hand,  from  the  king ;  and,  in  many  other 
cases,  whatever  was  obtained,  favorable  to  human  rights, 
from  the  tyranny  and  despotism  of  the  feudal  sovereigns, 
was  called  by  the  names  of  privileges  and  liberties,  as 
being  matter  of  special  favor.  And,  though  we  retain 
this  language  at  the  present  time,  the  principle  itself 
belongs  to  ages  that  have  long  passed  by  us.  The  civilized 
world  has  done  with  the  enormous  faith,  of  many  made  for 
one.  Society  asserts  its  own  rights,  and  alleges  them  to 
be  original,  sacred,  and  unalienable.  It  is  not  satisfied 
with  having  kind  masters  ;  it  demands  a  participation  in 
its  own  government:  and,  in  states  much  advanced  in 
civilization,  it  urges  this  demand  with  a  constancy  and  an 
energy,  that  cannot  well,  nor  long,  be  resisted.  There 


Annual  Register,  for  1821. 

27* 


318  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

are,  happily,  enough  of  regulated  Governments  in  the  world, 
and  those  among  the  most  distinguished,  to  operate  as 
constant  examples,  and  to  keep  alive  an  unceasing  panting 
in  the  bosoms  of  men  for  the  enjoyment  of  similar  free 
institutions. 

When  the  English  Revolution  of  1688  took  place,  the 
English  people  did  not  content  themselves  with  the  ex 
ample  of  Runnymede ;  they  did  not  build  their  hopes 
upon  royal  charters ;  they  did  not,  like  the  Laybach  cir 
cular,  suppose  that  all  useful  changes  in  constitutions  and 
laws  must  proceed  from  those  only  whom  God  has  rendered 
responsible  for  power.  They  were  somewhat  better  in 
structed  in  the  principles  of  civil  liberty,  or  at  least  they 
were  better  lovers  of  those  principles,  than  the  sovereigns 
of  Laybach.  Instead  of  petitioning  for  charters,  they  de 
clared  their  rights,  and,  while  they  offered  to  the  family  of 
Orange  the  crown  with  one  hand,  they  held  in  the  other 
an  enumeration  of  those  privileges  which  they  did  not  pro 
fess  to  hold  as  favors,  but  which  they  demanded  and  in 
sisted  upon,  as  their  undoubted  rights. 

I  need  not  stop  to  observe,  Mr.  Chairman,  how  totally 
hostile  are  these  doctrines  of  Laybach.  to  the  fundamental 
principles  of  our  Government.  They  are  in  direct  contra 
diction  :  the  principles  of  good  and  evil  are  hardly  more 
opposite.  If  these  principles  of  the  sovereigns  be  true, 
we  are  but  in  a  state  of  rebellion,  or  of  anarchy,  and  are 
only  tolerated  among  civilized  states  because  it  has  not  yet 
been  convenient  to  conform  us  to  the  true  standard. 

But  the  second,  and,  if  possible,  the  still  more  ob 
jectionable  principle,  avowed  in  these  papers,  is  the  right 
of  forcible  interference  in  the  affairs  of  other  states.  A 
right  to  control  nations  in  their  desire  to  change  their  own 
Government,  wherever  it  may  be  conjectured  or  pretended 
that  such  change  might  furnish  an  example  to  the  subjecti 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  3~*9 

of  other  states,  is  plainly  and  distinctly  asserted.  The 
same  Congress  that  made  the  declaration  at  Laybach  had 
declared,  before  its  removal  from  Troppau,  "  That  the 
powers  have  an  undoubted  right  to  take  a  hostile  attitude 
in  regard  to  those  states  in  which  the  overthrow  of  the 
Government  may  operate  as  an  example." 

There  cannot,  as  I  think,  be  conceived  a  more  flagrant 
violation  of  public  law,  or  national  independence,  than  is 
contained  in  this  short  declaration. 

No  matter  what  be  the  character  of  the  Government 
resisted ;  no  matter  with  what  weight  the  foot  of  the  op 
pressor  bears  on  the  neck  of  the  oppressed  ;  if  he  struggle, 
or  if  he  complain,  he  sets  a  dangerous  example  of  resist 
ance, — and  from  that  moment  he  becomes  an  object  of 
hostility  to  the  most  powerful  potentates  of  the  earth.  I 
want  words  to  express  my  abhorrence  of  this  abominable 
principle.  I  trust  every  enlightened  man  throughout  the 
world  will  oppose  it,  and  that,  especially,  those  who,  like 
ourselves,  are  fortunately  out  of  'the  reach  of  the  bayonets 
that  enforce  it,  will  proclaim  their  detestation  of  it,  in  a 
tone  both  loud  and  decisive.  The  avowed  object  of  such 
declarations  is  to  preserve  the  peace  of  the  world.  But  by 
what  means  is  it  proposed  to  preserve  this  peace  ?  Simply, 
by  bringing  the  power  of  all  the  Governments  to  bear 
against  all  subjects.  Here  is  to  be  established  a  sort  of 
double,  or  treble,  or  quadruple,  or,  for  aught  I  know,  a 
quintuple  allegiance.  An  offence  against  one  king  is  to  be 
an  oifence  against  all  kings,  and  the  power  of  all  is  to  be 
put  forth  for  the  punishment  of  the  offender.  A  right  to 
interfere  in  extreme  cases,  in  the  case  of  contiguous  states, 
and  where  imminent  danger  is  threatened  to  one  by  what 
is  transpiring  in  another,  is  not  without  precedent  in 
modern  times,  upon  what  has  been  called  the  law  of 
vicinage ;  and  when  confined  to  extreme  cases,  and  limited 


320  SPEECHES   OE    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

to  a  certain  extent,  it  may  perhaps  be  defended  upon  prin 
ciples  of  necessity  and  self-defence.  But  to  maintain  that 
sovereigns  may  go  to  war  upon  the  subjects  of  another 
state  to  repress  an  example,  is  monstrous  indeed.  What 
is  to  be  the  limit  to  such  a  principle,  or  to  the  practice 
growing  out  of  it?  What,  in  any  case,  but  sovereign 
pleasure  is  to  decide  whether  the  example  be  good  or  bad? 
And  what,  under  the  operation  of  such  rule,  may  be 
thought  of  OUR  example  ?  Why  are  we  not  as  fair  objects 
for  the  operation  of  the  new  principle,  as  any  of  those  who 
may  attempt  to  reform  the  condition  of  their  Government, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  ? 

The  ultimate  effect  of  this  alliance  of  sovereigns,  for 
objects  personal  to  themselves,  or  respecting  only  the  per 
manence  of  their  own  power,  must  be  the  destruction  of 
all  just  feeling,  and  all  natural  sympathy,  between  those 
who  exercise  the  power  of  government  and  those  who  are 
subject  to  it.  The  old  channels  of  mutual  regard  and  con 
fidence  are  to  be  dried  up,  or  cut  off.  Obedience  can  now 
be  expected  no  longer  than  it  is  enforced.  Instead  of 
relying  on  the  affections  of  the  governed,  sovereigns  are  to 
rely  on  the  affections  and  friendship  of  other  sovereigns. 
There  are,  in  short,  no  longer  to  be  nations.  Princes  and 
people  no  longer  are  to  unite  for  interests  common  to  them 
both.  There  is  to  be  an  end  of  all  patriotism,  as  a  distinct 
national  feeling.  Society  is  to  be  divided  horizontally ; 
all  sovereigns  above,  and  all  subjects  below ;  the  former 
coalescing  for  their  own  security,  and  for  the  more  certain 
subjection  of  the  undistinguished  multitude  beneath.  This, 
sir,  is  no  picture,  drawn  by  imagination.  I  have  hardly 
used  language  stronger  than  that  in  which  the  authors  of 
this  new  system  have  commented  on  their  own  work.  Mr. 
Chateaubriand,  in  his  speech  in  the  French  Chamber  of 
Deputies,  in  February  last,  declared,  that  he  had  a  con 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  321 

ference  with  the  Emperor  of  Russia  at  Verona,  in  which 
that  august  sovereign  uttered  sentiments  which  appeared 
to  him  so  precious,  that  he  immediately  hastened  home, 
and  wrote  them  down  while  yet  fresh  in  his  recollection. 
"  The  Emperor  declared"  said  he,  "  that  there  can  no 
longer  be  such  a  thing  as  an  English,  French,  Russian, 
Prussian,  or  Austrian  policy  :  there  is  henceforth  but  one 
policy,  which,  for  the  safety  of  all,  should  be  adopted  both 
by  people  and  kings.  It  was  for  me  first  to  show  myself 
convinced  of  the  principles  upon  which  I  founded  the 
alliance  ;  an  occasion  offered  itself ;  the  rising  in  G-reece. 
Nothing  certainly  could  occur  more  for  my  interests,  for 
the  interests  of  my  people,  nothing  more  acceptable  to  my 
country,  than  a  religious  war  in  Turkey:  but  I  have 
thought  I  perceived  in  the  troubles  of  the  Morea,  the  sign 
of  revolution,  and  I  have  held  back.  Providence  has  not 
put  under  my  command  800,000  soldiers,  to  satisfy  my 
ambition,  but  to  protect  religion,  morality,  and  justice,  and 
to  secure  the  prevalence  of  those  principles  of  order  on 
which  human  society  rests.  It  may  well  be  permitted  that 
kings  may  have  public  alliances  to  defend  themselves 
against  secret  enemies." 

These,  sir,  are  the  words  which  the  French  minister 
thought  so  important  as  that  they  deserved  to  be  recorded ; 
and  I,  too,  sir,  am  of  the  same  opinion.  But,  if  it  be  true 
that  there  is  hereafter  to  be  neither  a  Russian  policy,  nor 
a  Prussian  policy,  nor  an  Austrian  policy,  nor  a  French 
policy,  nor  even,  which  yet  I  will  not  believe,  an  English 
policy;  there  will  be,  I  trust  in  God,  an  American  policy. 
If  the  authority  of  all  these  Governments  be  hereafter  to 
be  mixed  and  blended,  and  to  flow  in  one  augmented  cur 
rent  of  prerogative,  over  the  face  of  Europe,  sweeping 
away  all  resistance  in  its  course,  it  will  yet  remain  for  us 
to  secure  our  own  happiness,  by  the  preservation  of  our 


322  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

own  principles ;  which  I  hope  we  shall  have  tl.e  manliness 
to  express  on  all  proper  occasions,  and  the  spirit  to  defend 
in  every  extremity.  The  end  and  scope  of  this  amalga 
mated  policy  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  this  :  to  inter 
fere,  ly  force,  for  any  Government,  against  any  people  who 
may  resist  it.  Be  the  state  of  the  people  what  it  may, 
they  shall  not  rise ;  be  the  Government  what  it  will,  it 
shall  not  be  opposed.  The  practical  commentary  has  cor 
responded  with  the  plain  language  of  the  text.  Look  at 
Spain,  and  at  Greece.  If  men  may  not  resist  the  Spanish 
inquisition,  and  the  Turkish  scimetar,  what  is  there  to  which 
humanity  must  not  submit  ?  Stronger  cases  can  never 
arise.  Is  it  not  proper  for  us,  at  all  times — is  it  not  our 
duty,  at  this  time,  to  come  forth,  and  deny,  and  condemn, 
these  monstrous  principles?  Where,  but  here,  and  in  one 
other  place,  are  they  likely  to  be  resisted  ?  They  are  ad 
vanced  with  equal  coolness  and  boldness ;  and  they  are 
supported  by  immense  power.  The  timid  will  shrink  and 
give  way — and  many  of  the  brave  may  be  compelled  to 
yield  to  force.  Human  liberty  may  yet,  perhaps,  be 
obliged  to  repose  its  principal  hopes  on  the  intelligence 
and  the  vigor  of  the  Saxon  race.  As  far  as  depends  on 
us,  at  least,  I  trust  those  hopes  will  not  be  disappointed ; 
and  that,  to  the  extent  which  may  consist  with  our  own 
settled,  pacific  policy,  our  opinions  and  sentiments  may  be 
brought  to  act,  on  the  right  side,  and  to  the  right  end,  on 
an  occasion  which  is,  in  truth,  nothing  less  than  a  mo 
mentous  question  between  an  intelligent  age,  full  of  know 
ledge,  thirsting  for  improvement,  and  quickened  by  a 
thousand  impulses,  on  one  side,  and  the  most  arbitrary 
pretensions,  sustained  by  unprecedented  power,  on  the 
other. 

This  asserted  right  of  forcible  intervention,  in  the  affairs 
other  nations,  is  in  open  violation  of  the  public  law  of 


ON   THE    GREEK    REVOLUTION.  323 

the  world.  Who  has  authorized  these  learned  doctors  of 
Troppau,  to  establish  new  articles  in  this  code  ?  Whence 
are  their  diplomas  ?  Is  the  whole  world  expected  to  ac 
quiesce  in  principles,  which  entirely  subvert  the  indepen 
dence  of  nations  ?  On  the  basis  of  this  independence  has 
been  reared  the  beautiful  fabric  of  international  law.  On 
the  principle  of  this  independence,  Europe  has  seen  a 
family  of  nations,  flourishing  within  its  limits,  the  small 
among  the  large,  protected  not  always  by  power,  but  by  a 
principle  above  power,  by  a  sense  of  propriety  and  justice. 
On  this  principle  the  great  commonwealth  of  civilized 
states  has  been  hitherto  upheld.  There  have  been  occa 
sional  departures,  or  violations,  and  always  disastrous,  as 
in  the  case  of  Poland ;  but,  in  general,  the  harmony  of 
the  system  has  been  wonderfully  preserved.  In  the  pro 
duction  and  preservation  of  this  sense  of  justice,  this  pre 
dominating  principle,  the  Christian  religion  has  acted  a 
main  part.  Christianity  and  civilization  have  labored 
together  ;  it  seems,  indeed,  to  be  a  law  of  our  human  con 
dition,  that  they  can  live  and  flourish  only  together.  From 
their  blended  influence  has  arisen  that  delightful  spectacle 
of  the  prevalence  of  reason  and  principle,  over  power 
and  interest,  so  well  described  by  one  who  was  an  honor  to 
the  age : 

"And  sovereign  Law,  the  world's  collected  will, 

O'er  thrones  and  globes  elate, 
Sits  Empress — crowning  good,  repressing  ill. 

Smit  by  her  sacred  frown, 
The  fiend,  Discretion,  like  a  vapor,  sinks, 

And  e'en  the  all-dazzling  crown 
Hides  his  faint  rays,  and  at  her  bidding  shrinks." 

But  this  vision  is  past.  While  the  teachers  of  Laybach 
give  the  rule,  there  will  be  no  law  but  the  law  of  the 
strongest. 


324  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER 

It  may  now  be  required  of  me  to  show  what  interest  ive 
have,  in  resisting  this  new  system.  What  is  it  to  us,  it 
may  be  asked,  upon  what  principles,  or  what  pretences, 
the  European  Governments  assert  a  right  of  interfering 
in  the  affairs  of  their  neighbors  ?  The  thunder,  it  may 
be  said,  rolls  at  a  distance.  The  wide  Atlantic  is  between 
us  and  danger ;  and,  however  others  may  suffer,  we  shall 
remain  safe. 

I  think  it  a  sufficient  answer  to  this,  to  say,  that  we  are 
one  of  the  nations ;  that  we  have  an  interest,  therefore,  in 
the  preservation  of  that  system  of  national  law  and  na 
tional  intercourse,  which  has  heretofore  subsisted,  so  bene 
ficially  for  all.  Our  system  of  government,  it  should  also 
be  remembered,  is,  throughout,  founded  on  principles  ut 
terly  hostile  to  the  new  code  ;  and,  if  we  remain  undis 
turbed  by  its  operation,  we  shall  owe  our  security,  either 
to  our  situation  or  our  spirit.  The  enterprising  character 
of  the  age,  our  own  active  commercial  spirit,  the  great  in 
crease  which  has  taken  place  in  the  intercourse  between 
civilized  and  commercial  States,  have  necessarily  con 
nected  us  with  the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  given  us  a 
high  concern  in  the  preservation  of  those  salutary  prin 
ciples,  upon  which  that  intercourse  is  founded.  We  have 
as  clear  an  interest  in  international  law,  as  individuals 
have  in  the  laws  of  society. 

But,  apart  from  the  soundness  of  the  policy,  on  the 
ground  of  direct  interest,  we  have,  sir,  a  duty,  connected 
with  this  subject,  which,  I  trust,  we  are  willing  to  perform. 
What  do  we  not  owe  to  the  cause  of  civil  and  religious 
liberty  ?  to  the  principle  of  lawful  resistance  ?  to  the  prin 
ciple  that  society  has  a  right  to  partake  in  its  own  govern 
ment  ?  As  the  leading  Republic  of  the  world,  living  and 
breathing  in  these  principles,  and  advanced,  by  their 
operation,  with  unequalled  rapidity,  in  our  career,  shall 


ON   THE    GREEK    REVOLUTION.  325 

wo  give  our  consent  to  bring  them  into  disrepute  and  dis 
grace  ?  It  is  neither  ostentation  nor  boasting,  to  say,  that 
there  lie  before  this  country,  in  immediate  prospect,  a 
great  extent  and  height  of  power.  We  are  borne  along 
toward  this,  without  effort,  and  not  always  even  with  a  full 
knowledge  of  the  rapidity  of  our  own  motion.  Circum 
stances  which  never  combined  before,  have  co-operated  in 
our  favor,  and  a  mighty  current  is  setting  us  forward, 
which  we  could  not  resist,  even  if  we  would,  and  which, 
while  we  would  stop  to  make  an  observation,  and  take  the 
sun,  has  set  us,  at  the  end  of  the  operation,  far  in  advance 
of  the  place  where  we  commenced  it.  Does  it  not  become 
us,  then,  is  it  not  a  duty  imposed  on  us,  to  give  our  weight 
to  the  side  of  liberty  and  justice — to  let  mankind  know 
that  we  are  not  tired  of  our  own  institutions — and  to  pro 
test  against  the  asserted  power  of  altering,  at  pleasure,  the 
law  of  the  civilized  world  ? 

But  whatever  we  do,  in  this  respect,  it  becomes  us  to  do 
upon  clear  and  consistent  principles.  There  is  an  import 
ant  topic  in  the  message,  to  which  I  have  yet  hardly  al 
luded.  I  mean  the  rumored  combination  of  the  European 
continental  sovereigns,  against  the  new-established  free 
states  of  South  America.  Whatever  position  this  Govern 
ment  may  take  on  that  subject,  I  trust  it  will  be  one  which 
can  be  defended,  on  known  and  acknowledged  grounds  of 
right.  The  near  approach,  or  the  remote  distance,  of 
danger,  may  affect  policy,  but  cannot  change  principle. 
The  same  reason  that  would  authorize  us  to  protest  against 
unwarrantable  combinations  to  interfere  between  Spain 
and  her  former  colonies,  would  authorize  us  equally  to 
protest,  if  the  same  combination  were  directed  against  the 
smallest  state  in  Europe,  although  our  duty  to  ourselves, 
our  policy,  and  wisdom,  might  indicate  very  different 
courses,  as  fit  to  be  pursued  by  us  in  the  two  cases.  We 

28 


326         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

shall  not,  I  trust,  act  upon  the  notion  of  dividing  the 
world  with  the  Holy  Alliance,  and  complain  of  nothing 
done  by  them  in  their  hemisphere,  if  they  will  not  inter 
fere  with  ours.  At  least  this  would  not  be  such  a  course 
of  policy  as  I  could  recommend  or  support.  We  hava 
not  offended,  and,  I  hope,  we  do  not  intend  to  offend,  in 
regard  to  South  America,  against  any  principle  of  na 
tional  independence  or  of  public  law.  We  have  done 
nothing,  we  shall  do  nothing,  that  we  need  to  hush  up  or 
to  compromise,  by  forbearing  to  express  our  sympathy 
for  the  cause  of  the  Greeks,  or  our  opinion  of  the  course 
which  other  Governments  have  adopted  in  regard  to  them. 

It  may,  in  the  next  place,  be  asked,  perhaps,  Supposing 
all  this  to  be  true,  what  can  we  do  ?  Are  we  to  go  to  war  ? 
Are  we  to  interfere  in  the  Greek  cause,  or  any  other 
European  cause  ?  Are  we  to  endanger  our  pacific  rela 
tions  ?  No,  certainly  not.  What,  then,  the  question 
recurs,  remains  for  us  ?  If  we  will  not  endanger  our  own 
peace,  if  we  will  neither  furnish  armies,  nor  navies,  to  the 
cause  which  we  think  the  just  one,  what  is  there  within 
our  power  ? 

Sir,  this  reasoning  mistakes  the  age.  The  time  has  been, 
indeed,  when  fleets,  and  armies,  and  subsidies,  were  the 
principal  reliances  even  in  the  best  cause.  But,  happily 
for  mankind,  there  has  arrived  a  great  change  in  this 
respect.  Moral  causes  come  into  consideration,  in  propor 
tion  as  the  progress  of  knowledge  is  advanced ;  and  the 
public  opinion  of  the  civilized  world  is  rapidly  gaining  an 
ascendency  over  mere  brutal  force.  It  is  already  able  to 
oppose  the  most  formidable  obstruction  to  the  progress  of 
injustice  and  oppression ;  and,  as  it  grows  more  intelligent 
and  more  intense,  it  will  be  more  and  more  formidable.  It 
may  be  silenced  by  military  power,  but  it  cannot  be  con 
quered.  It  is  elastic,  irrepressible,  and  invulnerable  to  the 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  327 

Weapons  of  ordinary  warfare.  It  is  that  impassable,  un- 
extinguishable  enemy  of  mere  violence  and  arbitrary  rule, 
which,  like  Milton's  angels, 

"Vital  in  every  part, 
Cannot,  but  by  annihilating,  die." 

Until  this  be  propitiated  or  satisfied,  it  is  vain  for  power 
tc  talk  either  of  triumphs  or  of  repose,  no  matter  what 
fields  are  desolated,  what  fortresses  surrendered,  what 
armies  subdued,  or  what  provinces  overrun.  In  the  history 
of  the  year  that  has  passed  by  us,  and  in  the  instance  of 
unhappy  Spain,  we  have  seen  the  vanity  of  all  triumphs 
in  a  cause  which  violates  the  general  sense  of  justice  of  the 
civilized  world.  It  is  nothing  that  the  troops  of  France 
have  passed  from  the  Pyrenees  to  Cadiz ;  it  is  nothing  that 
an  unhappy  and  prostrate  nation  has  fallen  before  them ; 
it  is  nothing  that  arrests,  and  confiscation,  and  execution, 
sweep  away  the  little  remnant  of  national  resistance.  There 
is  an  enemy  that  still  exists  to  check  the  glory  of  these 
triumphs.  It  follows  the  conqueror  back  to  the  very  scene 
of  his  ovations ;  it  calls  upon  him  to  take  notice  that 
Europe,  though  silent,  is  yet  indignant ;  it  shows  him  that 
the  sceptre  of  his  victory  is  a  barren  sceptre ;  that  it  shall 
confer  neither  joy  nor  honor,  but  shall  moulder  to  dry 
ashes  in  his  grasp.  In  the  midst  of  his  exultation,  it 
pierces  his  ear  with  the  cry  of  injured  justice,  it  denounces 
against  him  the  indignation  of  an  enlightened  and  civilized 
age ;  it  turns  to  bitterness  the  cup  of  his  rejoicing,  and 
wounds  him  with  the  sting  which  belongs  to  the  conscious 
ness  of  having  outraged  the  opinion  of  mankind. 

In  my  own  opinion,  sir,  the  Spanish  nation  is  now  nearer, 
not  only  in  point  of  time,  but  in  point  of  circumstance,  to 
the  acquisition  of  a  regulated  Government,  than  at  the 
moment  of  the  French  invasion.  Nations  must,  no  doubt, 
undergo  these  trials  in  their  progress  to  the  establishment 


328  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

of  free  institutions.  The  very  trials  benefit  them,  and 
render  them  more  capable  both  of  obtaining  and  of  enjoy 
ing  the  object  which  they  seek. 

I  shall  not  detain  the  committee,  sir,  by  laying  before  it 
any  statistical,  geographical,  or  commercial  account  of 
Greece.  I  have  no  knowledge  on  these  subjects,  which  is 
not  common  to  all.  It  is  universally  admitted,  that,  within 
the  last  thirty  or  forty  years,  the  condition  of  Greece  has 
been  greatly  improved.  Her  marine  is  at  present  respect 
able,  containing  the  best  sailors  in  the  Mediterranean, 
better  even,  in  that  sea,  than  our  own,  as  more  accustomed 
to  the  long  quarantines  and  other  regulations  which  pre 
vail  in  its  ports.  The  number  ^  her  seamen  has  been 
estimated  as  high  as  50,000,  but  I  suppose  that  estimate 
must  be  much  too  large.  They  have  probably  150,000 
tons  of  shipping.  It  is  not  easy  to  state  an  accurate  ac 
count  of  Grecian  population.  The  Turkish  Government 
does  not  trouble  itself  with  any  of  the  calculations  of 
political  economy,  and  there  has  never  been  such  a  thing 
as  an  accurate  census,  probably,  in  any  part  of  the  Turkish 
empire.  In  the  absence  of  all  official  information,  private 
opinions  widely  differ.  By  the  tables  which  have  been 
communicated,  it  would  seem  that  there  are  2,400,000 
Greeks  in  Greece  proper  and  the  Islands ;  an  amount,  as  I 
am  inclined  to  think,  somewhat  overrated.  There  are, 
probably,  in  the  whole  of  European  Turkey,  5,000,000 
Greeks,  and  2,000,000  more  in  the  Asiatic  dominions  of 
that  power.  The  moral  and  intellectual  progress  of  this 
numerous  population,  under  the  horrible  oppression  which 
crushes  it,  has  been  such  as  may  well  excite  regard.  Slaves, 
under  barbarous  masters,  the  Greeks  have  still  aspired 
after  the  blessings  of  knowledge  and  civilization.  Before 
the  breaking  out  of  the  present  revolution,  they  had  esta 
blished  schools,  and  colleges,  and  libraries,  and  the  press. 


ON   THE    GBEEK   REVOLUTION.  329 

Wherever,  as  in  Scio,  owing  to  particular  circumstances, 
the  weight  of  oppression  was  mitigated,  the  natural  vivacity 
of  the  Greeks,  and  their  aptitude  for  the  arts,  were  dis 
covered.  Though  certainly  not  on  an  equality  with  the 
civilized  and  Christian  states  of  Europe,  (and  how  is  it  pos 
sible  under  such  oppression  as  they  endured  that  they 
should  be?)  they  yet  furnished  a  striking  contrast  with 
their  Tartar  masters.  It  has  been  well  said,  that  it  is  not 
easy  to  form  a  just  conception  of  the  nature  of  the  despotism 
exercised  over  them.  Conquest  and  subjugation,  as  known 
among  European  states,  are  inadequate  modes  of  expression 
by  which  to  denote  the  dominion  of  the  Turks.  A  con 
quest,  in  the  civilized  world,  is  generally  no  more  than  an 
acquisition  of  a  new  dominion  to  the  conquering  country. 
It  does  not  imply  a  never-ending  bondage  imposed  upon 
the  conquered,  a  perpetual  mark,  and  opprobrious  distinc 
tion  between  them  and  their  masters ;  a  bitter  and  unbend 
ing  persecution  of  their  religion ;  an  habitual  violation  of 
their  rights  of  person  and  property,  and  the  unrestrained 
indulgence  toward  them,  of  every  passion  which  belongs 
to  the  character  of  a  barbarous  soldiery.  Yet  such  is  the 
state  of  Greece.  The  Ottoman  power  over  them,  obtained 
originally  by  the  sword,  is  constantly  preserved  by  the 
same  means.  Wherever  it  exists,  it  is  a  mere  military 
power.  The  religious  and  civil  code  of  the  State,  being 
both  fixed  in  the  Alcoran,  and  equally  the  object  of  an 
ignorant  and  furious  faith,  have  been  found  equally  inca 
pable  of  change.  "The  Turk,"  it  has  been  said,  "has 
been  encamped  in  Europe  for  four  centuries."  He  has 
hardly  any  more  participation  in  European  manners,  know 
ledge,  and  arts,  than  v hen  he  crossed  the  Bosphorus.  But 
this  is  not  the  worst  of  it.  The  power  of  the  empire  is 
fallen  into  anarchy,  and  as  the  principle  which  belongs  to 
the  head  belongs  also  to  the  parts,  there  are  as  many 

28* 


830  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

despots  as  there  are  pachas,  beys,  and  visiers.  Wars  are 
almost  perpetual,  between  the  Sultan  and  some  rebellious 
governor  of  a  province ;  and  in  the  conflict  of  these 
despotisms,  the  people  are  necessarily  ground  between  the 
upper  and  the  nether  millstone.  In  short,  the  Christian 
subjects  of  the  Sublime  Porte,  feel  daily  all  the  miseries 
which  flow  from  despotism,  from  anarchy,  from  slavery, 
and  from  religious  persecution.  If  any  thing  yet  remains 
to  heighten  such  a  picture,  let  it  be  added,  that  every  office 
in  the  Government  is  not  only  actually,  but  professedly, 
venal; — the  pachalics,  the  visierates,  the  cadiships,  and 
whatsoever  other  denomination  may  denote  the  depositary 
of  power.  In  the  whole  world,  sir,  there  is  no  such  op 
pression  felt,  as  by  the  Christian  Greeks.  In  various  parts 
of  India,  to-be-sure,  the  government  is  bad  enough ;  but 
then  it  is  the  government  of  barbarians  over  barbarians, 
and  the  feeling  of  oppression  is,  of  course,  not  so  keen. 
There  the  oppressed  are  perhaps  not  better  than  their  op 
pressors  ;  but  in  the  case  of  Greece,  there  are  millions  of 
Christian  men,  not  without  knowledge,  not  without  refine 
ment,  not  without  a  strong  thirst  for  all  the  pleasures  of 
civilized  life,  trampled  into  the  very  earth,  century  after 
century,  by  a  pillaging,  savage,  relentless  soldiery.  Sir, 
the  case  is  unique.  There  exists,  and  has  existed,  nothing 
like  it.  The  world  has  no  such  misery  to  show ;  there  is 
no  case  in  which  Christian  communities  can  be  called  upon 
with  such  emphasis  of  appeal. 

But  I  have  said  enough,  Mr.  Chairman,  indeed,  I  need 
have  said  nothing,  to  satisfy  the  House,  that  it  must  be 
some  new  combination  of  circumstances,  or  new  views  of 
policy  in  the  cabinets  of  Europe,  which  have  caused  this 
interesting  struggle  not  merely  to  be  regarded  with  in 
difference,  but  to  be  marked  with  opprobrium.  The  very 
statement  of  the  case,  as  a  contest  between  the  Turks  and 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  831 

Greeks,  sufficiently  indicates  what  must  be  the  feeling  of 
every  individual,  and  every  Government,  that  is  not 
biassed  by  a  particular  interest,  or  a  particular  feeling,  to 
disregard  the  dictates  of  justice  and  humanity. 

And  now,  sir,  what  has  been  the  conduct  pursued  by  the 
Allied  Powers,  in  regard  to  this  contest  ?  When  the  revo 
lution  broke  out,  the  sovereigns  were  in  Congress  at  Lay- 
bach  ;  and  the  papers  of  that  assembly  sufficiently  mani 
fest  their  sentiments.  They  proclaimed  their  abhorrence 
of  those  "  criminal  combinations  which  had  been  formed 
in  the  eastern  parts  of  Europe;"  and,  although  it  is 
possible  that  this  denunciation  was  aimed,  more  particu 
larly,  at  the  disturbances  in  the  provinces  of  Wallachia 
and  Moldavia,  yet  no  exception  is  made,  from  its  general 
terms,  in  favor  of  those  events  in  Greece,  which  were 
properly  the  commencement  of  her  revolution,  and  which 
could  not  but  be  well  known  at  Laybach,  before  the  date 
of  these  declarations.  Now,  it  must  be  remembered,  that 
Russia  was  a  leading  party  in  this  denunciation  of  the 
efforts  of  the  Greeks  to  achieve  their  liberation ;  and  it 
cannot  but  be  expected  by  Russia  that  the  world  shall  also 
remember  what  part  she  herself  has  heretofore  acted,  in 
the  same  concern.  It  is  notorious,  that  within  the  last 
half-century  she  has  again  and  again  excited  the  Greeks 
to  rebellion  against  the  Porte,  and  that  she  has  constantly 
kept  alive  in  them  the  hope  that  she  would,  one  day,  by 
her  own  great  power,  break  the  yoke  of  their  oppressor. 
Indeed,  the  earnest  attention  with  which  Russia  has  re 
garded  Greece,  goes  much  farther  back  than  to  the  time  I 
have  mentioned.  Ivan  the  Third,  in  1482,  having  espoused 
a  Grecian  princess,  heiress  of  the  last  Greek  emperor,  dis 
carded  St.  Creorge  from  the  Russian  arms,  and  adopted  in 
its  stead  the  G-reek  two-headed  black  eagle,  which  has  con 
tinued  in  the  Russian  arms  to  the  present  day.  In  virtue 


332  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

of  the   same  marriage,  the  Russian   princes    claimed  the 
Greek  throne  as  their  inheritance. 

Under  Peter  the  Great,  the  policy  of  Russia  developed 
itself  more  fully.  In  1696,  he  rendered  himself  master 
of  Azoph,  and  in  1698,  obtained  the  right  to  pass  the 
Dardanelles,  and  to  maintain,  by  that  route,  commercial 
intercourse  with  the  Mediterranean.  He  had  emissaries 
throughout  Greece,  and  particularly  applied  himself  to 
gain  the  clergy.  ~He  adopted  the  Labarum  of  Constan 
tino,  "In  hoc  signo  vinces ;"  and  medals  were  struck,  with 
the  inscription,  "  Petrus  I.  Russo-G-rcecorum  Imperator." 
In  whatever  new  direction  the  principles  of  the  Holy 
Alliance  may  now  lead  the  politics  of  Russia,  or  whatever 
course  she  may  suppose  Christianity  now  prescribes  to  her, 
in  regard  to  the  Greek  cause,  the  time  has  been  when  she 
professed  to  be  contending  for  that  cause,  as  identified  with 
Christianity.  The  white  banner  under  which  the  soldiers 
of  Peter  the  First  usually  fought,  bore,  as  its  inscription, 
"  In  the  name  of  the  Prince,  and  for  our  country."  Re 
lying  on  the  aid  of  the  Greeks,  in  his  war  with  the  Porte, 
he  changed  the  white  flag  to  red,  and  displayed  on  it  the 
words,  "  In  the  name  of  Grod,  and  for  Christianity." 
The  unfortunate  issue  of  this  war  is  well  known.  Though 
Anne  and  Elizabeth,  the  successors  of  Peter,  did  not 
possess  his  active  character,  they  kept  up  a  constant  com 
munication  with  Greece,  and  held  out  hopes  of  restoring 
the  Greek  Empire.  Catherine  the  Second,  as  is  well 
known,  excited  a  general  revolt  in  1769.  A  Russian  fleet 
appeared  in  the  Mediterranean,  and  a  Russian  army  was 
landed  in  the  Morea.  The  Greeks  in  the  end  were  dis 
gusted  by  being  required  to  take  an  oath  of  allegiance  to 
Russia,  and  the  empress  was  disgusted  because  they  re 
fused  to  take  it.  In  1774,  peace  was  signed  between 
Russia  and  the  Porte,  and  the  Greeks  of  the  Morea  were 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  333 

left  to  their  fate.  By  this  treaty  the  Porte  acknowledged 
the  independence  of  the  Khan  of  the  Crimea ;  a  pre 
liminary  step  to  the  acquisition  of  that  country  by  Russia. 
It  is  not  unworthy  of  remark,  as  a  circumstance  which 
distinguished  this  from  most  other  diplomatic  transactions, 
that  it  conceded  the  right  to  the  cabinet  of  St.  Peters 
burg,  of  intervention  in  the  interior  affairs  of  Turkey,  in 
regard  to  whatever  concerned  the  religion  of  the  Greeks. 
The  cruelties  and  massacres  that  happened  to  the  Greeks 
after  the  peace  between  Russia  and  the  Porte,  notwith 
standing  the  general  pardon  which  had  been  stipulated 
for  them,  need  not  now  to  be  recited.  Instead  of  re 
tracing  the  deplorable  picture,  it  is  enough  to  say,  that  in 
this  respect  the  past  is  justly  reflected  in  the  present. 
The  empress  soon  after  invaded  and  conquered  the  Crimea, 
and  on  one  of  the  gates  of  Kerson,  its  capital,  caused  to 
be  inscribed,  "  The  road  to  Byzantium."  The  present 
emperor,  on  his  accession  to  the  throne,  manifested  an 
intention  to  adopt  the  policy  of  Catherine  the  Second  as 
his  own,  and  the  world  has  not  been  right,  in  all  its  sus 
picions,  if  a  project  for  the  partition  of  Turkey  did  not 
form  a  part  of  the  negotiations  of  Napoleon  and  Alex 
ander  at  Tilsit. 

All  this  course  of  policy  seems  suddenly  to  be  changed. 
Turkey  is  no  longer  regarded,  it  would  appear,  as  an  ob 
ject  of  partition  or  acquisition,  and  Greek  revolts  have, 
all  at  once,  become,  according  to  the  declaration  of  Lay- 
bach,  "  criminal  combinations."  The  recent  Congress  at 
Verona  exceeded  its  predecessor  at  Laybach,  in  its  de 
nunciations  of  the  Greek  struggle.  In  the  circular  of  the 
14th  of  December,  1822,  it  declared  the  Grecian  resist 
ance  to  the  Turkish  power  to  be  rash  and  culpable,  and 
lamented  that  "  the  firebrand  of  rebellion  had  been  thrown 
into  the  Ottoman  Empire."  This  rebuke  and  crimination, 


334  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

"we  know  to  have  proceeded  on  those  settled  principles  of 
conduct,  which  the  continental  powers  had  prescribed  for 
themselves.  The  sovereigns  saw,  as  well  as  others,  the 
real  condition  of  the  Greeks ;  they  knew,  as  well  as 
others,  that  it  was  most  natural  and  most  justifiable,  that 
they  should  endeavor,  at  whatever  hazard,  to  change  that 
condition.  They  knew,  that  they,  themselves,  or  at  least 
one  of  them,  had  more  than  once  urged  the  Greeks  to 
similar  eiforts ;  that  they,  themselves,  had  thrown  the 
same  firebrand  into  the  midst  of  the  Ottoman  Empire. 
And  yet,  so  much  does  it  seem  to  be  their  fixed  object  to 
discountenance  whatsoever  threatens  to  disturb  the  actual 
Government  of  any  country,  that,  Christians  as  they  were, 
and  allied  as  they  professed  to  be,  for  purposes  most  im 
portant  to  human  happiness  and  religion,  they  have  not 
hesitated  to  declare  to  the  world,  that  they  have  wholly 
forborne  to  exercise  any  compassion  to  the  Greeks,  simply 
because  they  thought  that  they  saw,  in  the  struggles  of  the 
Morea,  the  sign  of  revolution.  This,  then,  is  coming  to  a 
plain,  practical  result.  The  Grecian  revolution  has  been 
discouraged,  discountenanced,  and  denounced,  for  no  reason 
but  because  it  is  a  revolution.  Independent  of  all  inquiry 
into  the  reasonableness  of  its  causes,  or  the  enormity  of 
the  oppression  which  produced  it ;  regardless  of  the  pecu 
liar  claims  which  Greece  possesses  upon  the  civilized  world ; 
and  regardless  of  what  has  been  their  own  conduct  toward 
her  for  a  century ;  regardless  of  the  interest  of  the  Chris 
tian  religion,  the  sovereigns  at  Verona  seized  upon  the 
case  of  the  Greek  revolution,  as  one  above  all  others 
calculated  to  illustrate  the  fixed  principles  of  their  policy. 
The  abominable  rule  of  the  Porte  on  one  side,  the  valor 
and  the  sufferings  of  the  Christian  Greeks  on  the  other, 
furnished  a  case  likely  tc  convince  even  an  incredulous 
world  of  the  sincerity  of  the  professions  of  the  Allied 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  335 

Powers,  They  embraced  the  occasion,  with  apparent 
ardor ;  and  the  world,  I  trust,  is  satisfied. 

We  see  here,  Mr.  Chairman,  the  direct  and  actual  ap 
plication  of  that  system  which  I  have  attempted  to  de 
scribe.  We  see  it  in  the  very  case  of  Greece.  We  learn, 
authentically  and  indisputably,  that  the  Allied  Powers, 
holding  that  all  changes  in  legislation  and  administration 
ought  to  proceed  from  kings  alone,  were  wholly  inexorable 
to  the  sufferings  of  the  Greeks,  and  wholly  hostile  to  their 
success.  Now  it  is  upon  this  practical  result  of  the  princi 
ple  of  the  continental  powers,  that  I  wish  this  House  to 
intimate  its  opinion.  The  great  question  is  a  question  of 
principle.  Greece  is  only  the  signal  instance  of  the  ap 
plication  of  that  principle.  If  the  principle  be  right,  if 
we  esteem  it  conformable  to  the  law  of  nations,  if  we 
have  nothing  to  say  against  it,  or  if  we  deem  ourselves 
unfit  to  express  an  opinion  on  the  subject,  then,  of  course, 
no  resolution  ought  to  pass.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
see  in  the  declarations  of  the  Allied  Powers,  principles  not 
only  utterly  hostile  to  our  own  free  institutions,  but  hostile 
also  to  the  independence  of  all  nations,  and  altogether 
opposed  to  the  improvement  of  the  condition  of  human 
nature ;  if,  in  the  instance  before  us,  we  see  a  most  strik 
ing  exposition  and  application  of  those  principles,  and  if 
we  deem  our  own  opinions  to  be  entitled  to  any  weight  in 
the  estimation  of  mankind ;  then,  I  think,  it  is  our  duty 
to  adopt  some  such  measure  as  the  proposed  resolution. 

It  is  worthy  of  observation,  sir,  that  as  early  as  July, 
1821,  Baron  Strogonoff,  the  Russian  minister  at  Con 
stantinople,  represented  to  the  Porte,  that,  if  the  undis 
tinguished  massacres  of  the  Greeks,  both  of  such  as  were 
in  open  resistance,  and  of  those  who  remained  patient  in 
their  submission,  were  continued,  and  should  become  A 
settled  habit,  they  would  give  just  cause  of  war  against 


336  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

the  Porte  to  all  Christian  states.  This  was  in  1821.  It 
was  followed,  early  in  the  next  year,  by  that  indescribable 
enormity,  that  appalling  monument  of  barbarian  cruelty, 
the  destruction  of  Scio ;  a  scene  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
describe ;  a  scene  from  which  human  nature  shrinks 
shuddering  away ;  a  scene  having  hardly  a  parallel  in 
the  history  of  fallen  man.  This  scene,  too,  was  quickly 
followed  by  the  massacres  in  Cyprus  ;  and  all  these  things 
were  perfectly  known  to  the  Christian  powers  assembled 
at  Verona.  Yet  these  powers,  instead  of  acting  upon  the 
case  supposed  by  Baron  Strogonoff,  and  which,  one  would 
think,  had  been  then  fully  made  out ;  instead  of  being 
moved  by  any  compassion  for  the  sufferings  of  the  Greeks ; 
these  powers,  these  Christian  powers,  rebuke  their  gal 
lantry,  and  insult  their  sufferings,  by  accusing  them  of 
"  throwing  a  firebrand  into  the  Ottoman  Empire." 

Such,  sir,  appear  to  me  to  be  the  principles  on  which 
the  continental  powers  of  Europe  have  agreed  hereafter  to 
act ;  and  this,  an  eminent  instance  of  the  application  of 
those  principles. 

I  shall  not  detain  the  Committee,  Mr.  Chairman,  by 
any  attempt  to  recite  the  events  of  the  Greek  struggle,  up 
to  the  present  time.  Its  origin  may  be  found,  doubtless, 
in  that  improved  state  of  knowledge,  which,  for  some 
years,  has  been  gradually  taking  place  in  that  country. 
The  emancipation  of  the  Greeks  has  been  a  subject  fre 
quently  discussed  in  modern  times.  They  themselves  are 
represented  as  having  a  vivid  remembrance  of  the  dis 
tinction  of  their  ancestors,  not  unmixed  with  an  indignant 
feeling,  that  civilized  and  Christian  Europe  should  not, 
ere  now,  have  aided  them  in  breaking  their  intolerable 
fetters. 

In  1816,  a  society  was  founded  in  Vienna,  for  the  en 
couragement  of  Grecian  literature.  It  was  connected  with 


ON   THE    GHEEK   REVOLUTION.  337 

a  similar  institution  at  Athens,  and  another  in  Thessaly, 
called  the  u  Gymnasium  of  Mount  Pelion."  The  treasury 
and  general  office  of  the  institution  was  established  ai 
Munich.  No  political  object  was  avowed  by  these  institu 
tions,  probably  none  contemplated.  Still,  however,  they 
have,  no  doubt,  had  their  effect  in  hastening  that  con 
dition  of  things,  in  which  the  Greeks  felt  competent  to 
the  establishment  of  their  independence.  Many  young 
men  have  been,  for  years,  annually  sent  to  the  universities 
in  the  western  states  of  Europe  for  their  education  ;  and, 
after  the  general  pacification  of  Europe,  many  military 
men,  discharged  from  other  employment,  were  ready  to 
enter  even  into  so  unpromising  a  service  as  that  of  the 
revolutionary  Greeks. 

In  1820,  war  commenced  between  the  Porte  and  Ali,  the 
well-known  pacha  of  Albania.  Differences  existed  also 
with  Persia,  and  with  Russia.  In  this  state  of  things,  at 
the  beginning  of  1821,  an  insurrection  appears  to  have 
broken  out  in  Moldavia,  under  the  direction  of  Alexander 
Ypsilanti,  a  well-educated  soldier,  who  had  been  major- 
general  in  the  Russian  service.  From  his  character,  and 
the  number  of  those  who  seemed  disposed  to  join  him,  he 
was  supposed  to  be  countenanced  by  the  court  of  St. 
Petersburg.  This,  however,  was  a  great  mistake,  which 
the  Emperor,  then  at  Laybach,  took  an  early  opportunity 
to  rectify.  The  Porte,  it  would  seem,  however,  alarmed  at 
these  occurrences  in  the  northern  provinces,  caused  search 
to  be  made  of  all  vessels  entering  the  Black  Sea,  lest  arms 
or  other  military  means  should  be  sent  in  that  manner  to 
the  insurgents.  This  proved  inconvenient  to  the  commerce 
of  Russia,  and  caused  some  unsatisfactory  correspondence 
between  the  two  powers.  It  may  be  worthy  of  remark,  as 
an  exhibition  of  national  character,  that,  agitated  by  these 
appearances  of  intestine  commotion,  the  Sultan  issued  a 


338  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

proclamation,  calling  on  all  true  Mussulmans  to  renounce 
the  pleasures  of  social  life,  to  prepare  arms  and  horses,  and 
to  return  to  the  manner  of  their  ancestors,  the  life  of  the 
plains.  The  Turk  seems  to  have  thought  that  he  had,  at 
last,  caught  something  of  the  dangerous  contagion  of 
European  civilization,  and  that  it  was  necessary  to  reform 
his  habits,  by  recurring  to  the  original  manners  of  military 
roving  barbarians. 

It  was  about  this  time,  that  is  to  say,  at  the  commence 
ment  of  1821,  that  the  Revolution  burst  out  in  various 
parts  of  Greece  and  the  Isles.  Circumstances,  certainly, 
were  not  unfavorable,  as  one  portion  of  the  Turkish  army 
was  employed  in  the  war  against  Ali  Pacha  in  Albania,  and 
another  part  in  the  provinces  north  of  the  Danube.  The 
Greeks  soon  possessed  themselves  of  the  open  country  of 
the  Morea,  and  drove  their  enemy  into  the  fortresses.  Of 
these,  that  of  Tripolitza,  with  the  city,  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  Greeks,  in  the  course  of  the  summer.  Having  after 
these  first  movements  obtained  time  to  breathe,  it  became, 
of  course,  an  early  object  to  establish  a  government.  For 
this  purpose  delegates  of  the  people  assembled,  under  that 
name  which  describes  the  assembly  in  which  we  ourselves 
sit,  that  name  which  "freed  the  Atlantic,"  a  Congress.  A 
writer,  who  undertakes  to  render  to  the  civilized  world  that 
service  which  was  once  performed  by  Edmund  Burke,  I 
mean  the  compiler  of  the  English  Annual  Register,  asks, 
by  what  authority  this  assembly  could  call  itself  a  Congress. 
Simply,  sir,  by  the  same  authority,  by  which  the  people  of 
the  United  States  have  given  the  same  name  to  their  own 
legislature.  We,  at  least,  should  be  naturally  inclined  to 
think,  not  only  as  far  as  names,  but  things  also,  are  con 
cerned,  that  the  Greeks  could  hardly  have  begun  their 
revolution  under  better  auspices ;  since  they  have  endea 
vored  to  render  applicable  to  themselves  the  genera] 


ON   THE    GKEEK   REVOLUTION*  339 

principles  of  our  form  of  government,  as  well  as  its  name. 
This  Constitution  went  into  operation  at  the  commence 
ment  of  the  next  year.  In  the  mean  time,  the  war  with 
Ali  Pacha  was  ended,  he  having  surrendered,  and  being 
afterward  assassinated,  by  an  instance  of  treachery  and 
perfidy,  which,  if  it  had  happened  elsewhere  than  under 
the  government  of  the  Turks,  would  have  deserved  notice. 

The  negotiation  with  Russia,  too,  took  a  turn  unfavor 
able  to  the  Greeks.  The  great  point  upon  which  Russia 
insisted,  besides  the  abandonment  of  the  measure  of  search 
ing  vessels  bound  to  the  Black  Sea,  was,  that  the  Porte 
should  withdraw  its  armies  from  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Russian  frontiers  ;  and  the  immediate  consequence  of  this, 
when  effected,  was  to  add  so  much  more  to  the  disposable 
force  ready  to  be  employed  against  the  Greeks.  These 
events  seemed  to  have  left  the  whole  force  of  the  empire, 
at  the  commencement  of  1822,  in  a  condition  to  be  em 
ployed  against  the  Greek  rebellion ;  and,  accordingly,  very 
many  anticipated  the  immediate  destruction  of  their  cause. 
The  event,  however,  was  ordered  otherwise.  Where  the 
greatest  effort  was  made,  it  was  met  and  defeated.  Enter 
ing  the  Morea  with  an  army  which  seemed  capable  of 
bearing  down  all  resistance,  the  Turks  were  nevertheless 
defeated  and  driven  back,  and  pursued  beyond  the  isthmus, 
within  which,  as  far  as  it  appears,  from  that  time  to  the 
present,  they  have  not  been  able  to  set  their  foot. 

It  was  in  April,  of  this  year,  that  the  destruction  of 
Scio  took  place.  That  island,  a  sort  of  appanage  of  the 
Sultana  mother,  enjoyed  many  privileges  peculiar  to  itself. 
In  a  population  of  130,000  or  140,000,  it  had  no  more 
than  200G  or  3000  Turks ;  indeed,  by  some  accounts,  not 
near  as  many.  The  absence  of  these  ruffian  masters  had, 
in  some  degree,  allowed  opportunity  for  the  promotion  of 
knowledge,  the  accumulation  of  wealth,  and  the  general 


340  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

cultivation  of  society.  Here  was  the  seat  of  the  modern 
Greek  literature,  here  were  libraries,  printing-presses,  and 
other  establishments,  which  indicate  some  advancement  in 
refinement  and  knowledge.  Certain  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Samos,  it  would  seem,  envious  of  this  comparative  happi 
ness  of  Scio,  landed  upon  the  island,  in  an  irregular  multi 
tude,  for  the  purpose  of  compelling  its  inhabitants  to  make 
common  cause  with  their  countrymen  against  their  op 
pressors.  These,  being  joined  by  the  peasantry,  marched 
to  the  city,  and  drove  the  Turks  into  the  castle.  The 
Turkish  fleet,  lately  reinforced  from  Egypt,  happened  to 
be  in  the  neighboring  seas,  and  learning  these  events, 
landed  a  force  on  the  island  of  15,000  men.  There  was 
nothing  to  resist  such  an  army.  These  troops  immediately 
entered  the  city,  and  began  an  indiscriminate  massacre. 
The  city  was  fired;  and,  in  four  days,  the  fire  and  the 
sword  of  the  Turk  rendered  the  beautiful  Scio  a  clotted 
mass  of  blood  and  ashes.  The  details  are  too  shocking  to 
be  recited.  Forty  thousand  women  and  children,  unhappily 
saved  from  the  general  destruction,  were  afterward  sold  in 
the  market  of  Smyrna,  and  sent  off  into  distant  and  hope 
less  servitude.  Even  on  the  wharves  of  our  own  cities,  it 
has  been  said,  have  been  sold  the  utensils  of  those  hearths 
which  now  exist  no  longer.  Of  the  whole  population  which 
I  have  mentioned,  not  above  900  persons  were  left  living 
upon  the  island.  I  will  only  repeat,  sir,  that  these  tragical 
scenes  were  as  fully  known  at  the  Congress  of  Verona,  as 
they  are  now  known  to  us ;  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  call 
on  the  powers  that  constituted  that  Congress,  in  the  name 
of  conscience,  and  in  the  name  of  humanity,  to  tell  us,  if 
there  be  nothing  even  in  these  unparalleled  excesses  of 
Turkish  barbarity,  to  excite  a  sentiment  of  compassion ; 
nothing  which  they  regard  as  so  objectionable  as  even  the 
very  idea  of  popular  resistance  to  power. 


ON   THE   GREEK   REVOLUTION.  341 

The  events  of  the  year  which  has  just  passed  by,  as  far 
as  they  have  become  known  to  us,  have  been  even  more 
favorable  to  the  Greeks,  than  those  of  the  year  preceding. 
I  omit  all  details,  as  being  as  well  known  to  others  as  to 
myself.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  with  no  other  enemy  to  con 
tend  with,  and  no  diversion  of  his  force  to  other  objects, 
the  Porte  has  not  been  able  to  carry  the  war  into  the 
Morea ;  and  that,  by  the  last  accounts,  its  armies  were 
acting  defensively  in  Thessaly.  I  pass  over  also  the  naval 
engagements  of  the  Greeks,  although  that  is  a  mode  of 
warfare  in  which  they  are  calculated  to  excel,  and  in  which 
they  have  already  performed  actions  of  such  distinguished 
skill  and  bravery  as  would  draw  applause  upon  the  best 
mariners  in  the  world.  The  present  state  of  the  war  would 
seem  to  be,  that  the  Greeks  possess  the  whole  of  the  Morea, 
with  the  exception  of  the  three  fortresses  of  Patras,  Cor  on, 
and  Modon ;  all  Candia,  but  one  fortress ;  and  most  of  the 
other  islands.  They  possess  the  citadel  of  Athens,  Mis- 
solonghi,  and  several  other  places  in  Livadia.  They  have 
been  able  to  act  on  the  offensive  and  to  carry  the  war  be 
yond  the  isthmus.  There  is  no  reason  to  believe  their 
marine  is  weakened ;  probably,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is 
strengthened.  But,  what  is  most  of  all  important,  they 
have  obtained  time  and  experience.  They  have  awakened 
a  sympathy  throughout  Europe  and  throughout  America ; 
and  they  have  formed  a  government  which  seems  suited  to 
the  emergency  of  their  condition. 

Sir,  they  have  done  much.  It  would  be  great  injustice 
to  compare  their  achievements  with  our  own.  We  began 
our  Revolution  already  possessed  of  government,  and, 
comparatively,  of  civil  liberty.  Our  ancestors  had,  for 
centuries,  been  accustomed  in  a  great  measure  to  govern 
themselves.  They  were  well  acquainted  with  popular 
elections  and  legislative  assemblies,  and  the  general  prin- 


842  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

oiples  and  practice  of  free  governments.  They  had  little 
else  to  do  than  to  throw  off  the  paramount  authority  of  the 
parent  state.  Enough  was  still  left,  both  of  law  and  of 
organization,  to  conduct  society  in  its  accustomed  course, 
and  to  unite  men  together  for  a  common  object.  The 
Greeks,  of  course,  could  act  with  little  concert  at  the  be 
ginning  ;  they  were  unaccustomed  to  the  exercise  of  power, 
without  experience,  with  limited  knowledge,  without  aid, 
and  surrounded  by  nations,  which,  whatever  claims  the 
Greeks  might  seem  to  have  had  upon  them,  have  afforded 
them  nothing  but  discouragement  and  reproach.  They 
have  held  out,  however,  for  three  campaigns ;  and  that,  at 
least,  is  something*  Constantinople  and  the  northern  pro 
vinces  have  sent  forth  thousands  of  troops  ;  they  have  been 
defeated.  Tripoli,  and  Algiers,  and  Egypt,  have  con 
tributed  their  marine  contingents ;  they  have  not  kept  the 
ocean.  Hordes  of  Tartars  have  crossed  the  Bosphorus; 
they  have  died  where  the  Persians  died.  The  powerful 
monarchies  in  the  neighborhood  have  denounced  their 
cause,  and  admonished  them  to  abandon  it,  and  submit  to 
their  fate.  They  have  answered  them,  that,  although  two 
hundred  thousand  of  their  countrymen  have  offered  up 
their  lives,  there  yet  remain  lives  to  offer;  and  that  it  is 
the  determination  of  all,  "yes,  of  ALL,"  to  persevere  until 
they  shall  have  established  their  liberty,  or  until  the  power 
of  their  oppressors  shall  have  relieved  them  from  the  burden 
of  existence. 

It  may  now  be  asked,  perhaps,  whether  the  expression 
of  our  own  sympathy,  and  that  of  the  country,  may  do 
them  good.  I  hope  it  may.  It  may  give  them  courage 
and  spirit,  it  may  assure  them  of  public  regard,  teach  them 
that  they  are  not  wholly  forgotten  by  the  civilized  world, 
and  inspire  them  with  constancy  in  the  pursuit  of  their 
great  end.  At  any  rate,  sir,  it  appears  to  me,  that  the 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  343 

measure  which  I  have  proposed  is  due  to  our  own  cha 
racter,  and  called  for  by  our  own  duty.  When  we  shall 
have  discharged  that  duty,  we  may  leave  the  rest  to  the 
disposition  of  Providence. 

I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be  doubted,  that  this  measure  is 
entirely  pacific.  I  profess  my  inability  to  perceive  that  it 
has  any  possible  tendency  to  involve  our  neutral  relations. 
If  the  resolution  pass,  it  is  not,  necessarily,  to  be  imme 
diately  acted  on.  It  will  not  be  acted  on  at  all,  unless,  in 
the  opinion  of  the  President,  a  proper  and  safe  occasion 
for  acting  upon  it  shall  arise.  If  we  adopt  the  resolution 
to-day,  our  relations  with  every  foreign  state  will  be  to 
morrow  precisely  what  they  now  are.  The  resolution  will 
be  sufficient  to  express  our  sentiments  on  the  subjects  to 
which  I  have  adverted.  Useful  to  that  purpose,  it  can  be 
mischievous  to  no  purpose.  If  the  topic  were  properly  in 
troduced  into  the  message,  it  cannot  be  improperly  intro 
duced  into  discussion  in  this  House.  If  it  were  proper, 
which  no  one  doubts,  for  the  President  to  express  his 
opinions  upon  it,  it  cannot,  I  think,  be  improper  for  us  to 
express  ours.  The  only  certain  effect  of  this  resolution  is 
to  express,  in  a  form  usual  in  bodies  constituted  like  this, 
our  approbation  of  the  general  sentiment  of  the  message. 
Do  we  wish  to  withhold  that  approbation  ?  The  resolution 
confers  on  the  President  no  new  power,  nor  does  it  enjoin 
on  him  the  exercise  of  any  new  duty ;  nor  does  it  hasten 
him  in  the  discharge  of  any  existing  duty. 

I  cannot  imagine  that  this  resolution  can  add  any  thing 
to  those  excitements  which  it  has  been  supposed,  I  think 
very  causelessly,  might  possibly  provoke  the  Turkish  Go 
vernment  to  acts  of  hostility.  There  is  already  the  mes 
sage,  expressing  the  hope  of  success  to  the  Greeks,  and 
disaster  to  the  Turks,  in  a  much  stronger  manner  than  is 
to  be  implied  from  the  terms  of  this  resolution.  There  is 


344         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

the  correspondence  between  the  Secretary  of  State  and  the 
Greek  Agent  in  London,  already  made  public,  in  which 
similar  wishes  are  expressed,  and  a  continuance  of  the 
correspondence  apparently  invited.  I  might  add  to  this, 
the  unexampled  burst  of  feeling  which  this  cause  has  called 
forth  from  all  classes  of  society,  and  the  notorious  fact 
of  pecuniary  contributions  made  throughout  the  country 
for  its  aid  and  advancement.  After  all  this,  whoever  can 
see  cause  of  danger  to  our  pacific  relations  from  the  adop 
tion  of  this  resolution,  has  a  keener  vision  than  I  can 
pretend  to.  Sir,  there  is  no  augmented  danger ;  there  is 
no  danger.  The  question  comes  at  last  to  this,  whether, 
on  a  subject  of  this  sort,  this  House  holds  an  opinion  which 
is  worthy  to  be  expressed  ? 

Even  suppose,  sir,  an  Agent  or  Commissioner  were  to 
be  immediately  sent, — a  measure  which  I  myself  believe 
to  be  the  proper  one, — there  is  no  breach  of  neutrality, 
nor  any  just  cause  of  offence.  Such  an  agent,  of  course, 
would  not  be  accredited ;  he  would  not  be  a  public  mi 
nister.  The  object  would  be  inquiry  and  information ; 
inquiry,  which  we  have  a  right  to  make ;  information, 
which  we  are  interested  to  possess.  If  a  dismemberment 
of  the  Turkish  Empire  be  taking  place,  or  has  already 
taken  place ;  if  a  new  state  be  rising,  or  be  already  risen, 
in  the  Mediterranean,  who  can  doubt,  that,  without  any 
breach  of  neutrality,  we  may  inform  ourselves  of  these 
events,  for  the  government  of  our  own  concerns  ? 

The  Greeks  have  declared  the  Turkish  coasts  in  a  state 
of  blockade ;  may  we  not  inform  ourselves  whether  this 
blockade  be  nominal  or  real?  And,  of  course,  whether 
it  shall  be  regarded  or  disregarded  ?  The  greater  our 
trade  may  happen  to  be  with  Smyrna,  a  consideration 
which,  seems  to  have  alarmed  some  gentlemen,  the  greater 
is  the  reason,  in  my  opinion,  why  we  should  seek  to  be 


ON   THE    GREEK   REVOLUTION.  345 

accurately  informed  of  those  events  which  may  affect  its 
safety. 

It  seems  to  me  impossible,  therefore,  for  any  reasonable 
man  to  imagine,  that  this  resolution  can  expose  us  to  the 
resentment  of  the  Sublime  Porte. 

As  little  reason  is  there  for  fearing  its  consequences 
upon  the  conduct  of  the  Allied  Powers.  They  may,  very 
naturally,  dislike  our  sentiments  upon  the  subject  of  the 
Greek  Revolution ;  but  what  those  sentiments  are,  they 
will  much  more  explicitly  learn  in  the  President's  message 
than  in  this  resolution.  They  might,  indeed,  prefer  that 
we  should  express  no  dissent  upon  the  doctrines  which 
they  have  avowed,  and  the  application  which  they  have 
made  of  those  doctrines  to  the  case  of  Greece.  But  I 
trust  we  are  not  disposed  to  leave  them  in  any  doubt  as  to 
our  sentiments  upon  these  important  subjects.  They  have 
expressed  their  opinions,  and  do  not  call  that  expression 
of  opinion  an  interference ;  in  which  respect  they  are 
right,  as  the  expression  of  opinion,  in  such  cases,  is  not 
such  an  interference  as  would  justify  the  Greeks  in  con 
sidering  the  powers  as  at  war  with  them.  For  the  same 
reason,  any  expression  which  we  may  make,  of  different 
principles  and  different  sympathies,  is  no  interference. 
No  one  would  call  the  President's  message  an  interference; 
and  yet  it  is  much  stronger,  in  that  respect,  than  this  reso 
lution.  If  either  of  them  could  be  construed  to  be  an 
interference,  no  doubt  it  would  be  improper,  at  least  it 
would  be  so,  according  to  my  view  of  the  subject ;  for 
the  very  thing  which  I  have  attempted  to  resist  in  the 
course  of  these  observations,  is  the  right  of  foreign  inter 
ference.  But  neither  the  message  nor  the  resolution  haa 
that  character.  There  is  not  a  power  in  Europe  that  can 
suppose,  that,  in  expressing  our  opinions  on  this  occasion, 
we  are  governed  by  any  desire  of  aggrandizing  ourselves, 


346  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

or  of  injuring  others.  We  do  no  more  than  to  maintain 
those  established  principles,  in  which  we  have  an  interest 
in  common  with  other  nations,  and  to  resist  the  introduc 
tion  of  new  principles  and  new  rules,  calculated  to  destroy 
the  relative  independence  of  states,  and  particularly  hostile 
to  the  whole  fabric  of  our  own  Government. 

I  close,  then,  sir,  with  repeating,  that  the  object  of  this 
resolution  is,  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  interesting  occasion 
of  the  Greek  revolution,  to  make  our  protest  against  the 
doctrines  of  the  Allied  Powers  ;  both  as  they  are  laid  down 
in  principle,  and  as  they  are  applied  in  practice. 

I  think  it  right  too,  sir,  not  to  be  unseasonable  in  the 
expression  of  our  regard,  and,  as  far  as  that  goes,  in  a 
ministration  of  our  consolation,  to  a  long-oppressed  and 
now  struggling  people.  I  am  not  of  those  who  would,  in 
the  hour  of  utmost  peril,  withhold  such  encouragement  as 
might  be  properly  and  lawfully  given,  and,  when  the  crisis 
should  be  past,  overwhelm  the  rescued  sufferer  with  kind 
ness  and  caresses.  The  Greeks  address  the  civilized  world 
with  a  pathos  not  easy  to  be  resisted.  They  invoke  our 
favor  by  more  moving  considerations  than  can  well  belong 
to  the  condition  of  any  other  people.  They  stretch  out 
their  arms  to  the  Christian  communities  of  the  earth,  be 
seeching  them,  by  a  generous  recollection  of  their  ances 
tors,  by  the  consideration  of  their  own  desolated  and 
ruined  cities  and  villages,  by  their  wives  and  children,  sold 
into  an  accursed  slavery,  by  their  own  blood,  which  they 
seem  willing  to  pour  out  like  water,  by  the  common  faith, 
and  in  the  Name,  which  unites  all  Christians,  that  they 
would  extend  to  them  at  least  some  token  of  compas 
sionate  regard. 


IV. 

SPEECH  ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  JOHN  F.  KNAPP,  FOR 
THE  MURDER  OF  JOSEPH  WHITE,  OF  SALEM, 
MASSACHUSETTS. 


I  AM  little  accustomed,  gentlemen,  to  the  part  which  I 
am  now  attempting  to  perform.  Hardly  more  than  once 
or  twice  has  it  happened  to  me  to  be  concerned,  on  the 
side  of  the  Government,  in  any  criminal  prosecution  what 
ever  ;  and  never,  until  the  present  occasion,  in  any  case 
affecting  life. 

But  I  very  much  regret  that  it  should  have  been  thought 
necessary  to  suggest  to  you,  that  I  am  brought  here  to 
"  hurry  you  against  the  law,  and  beyond  the  evidence." 
I  hope  I  have  too  much  regard  for  justice,  and  too  much 
respect  for  my  own  character,  to  attempt  either ;  and 
were  I  to  make  such  attempt,  I  am  sure,  that  in  this  court, 
nothing  can  be  carried  against  the  law,  and  that  gentle 
men,  intelligent  and  just  as  you  are,  are  not,  by  any 
power,  to  be  hurried  beyond  the  evidence.  Though  I 
could  well  have  wished  to  shun  this  occasion,  I  have  not 
felt  at  liberty  to  withhold  my  professional  assistance,  when 
it  is  supposed  that  I  might  be  in  some  degree  useful,  in 
investigating  and  discovering  the  truth,  respecting  this 
most  extraordinary  murder.  It  has  seemed  to  be  a  duty, 
incumbent  on  me,  as  on  every  other  citizen,  to  do  my  best, 
and  my  utmost,  to  bring  to  light  the  perpetrators  of  this 

347 


348         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

crime.  Against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  as  an  individual, 
I  cannot  have  the  slightest  prejudice.  I  would  not  do 
him  the  smallest  injury  or  injustice.  But  I  do  not  affect 
to  be  indifferent  to  the  discovery,  and  the  punishment  of 
this  deep  guilt.  I  cheerfully  share  in  the  opprobrium, 
how  much  soever  it  may  be,  which  is  cast  on  those  who 
feel  and  manifest  an  anxious  concern  that  all  who  had  a 
part  in  planning,  or  a  hand  in  executing,  this  deed  of  mid 
night  assassination,  may  be  brought  to  answer  for  their 
enormous  crime,  at  the  bar  of  public  justice.  Gentlemen, 
it  is  a  most  extraordinary  case.  In  some  respects,  it  has 
hardly  a  precedent  anywhere  ;  certainly  none  in  our  New 
England  history.  This  bloody  drama  exhibited  no  sud 
denly-excited,  ungovernable  rage.  The  actors  in  it  were 
not  surprised  by  any  lion-like  temptation  springing  upon 
their  virtue,  and  overcoming  it,  before  resistance  could 
begin.  Nor  did  they  do  the  deed  to  glut  savage  vengeance, 
or  satiate  long  settled  and  deadly  hate.  It  was  a  cool, 
calculating,  money-making  murder.  It  was  all  "  hire  and 
salary,  not  revenge."  It  was  the  weighing  of  money 
against  life ;  the  counting  out  of  so  many  pieces  of  silver, 
against  so  many  ounces  of  blood. 

An  aged  man,  without  an  enemy  in  the  world,  in  his 
own  house,  and  in  his  own  bed,  is  made  the  victim  of  a 
butcherly  murder,  for  mere  pay.  Truly,  here  is  a  new 
lesson  for  painters  and  poets.  Whoever  shall  hereafter 
draw  the  portrait  of  murder,  if  he  will  show  it  as  it  has 
been  exhibited  in  an  example,  where  such  example  was 
last  to  have  been  looked  for,  in  the  very  bosom  of  our 
New  England  society,  let  him  not  give  it  the  grim  visage 
of  Moloch,  the  brow  knitted  by  revenge,  the  face  black 
with  settled  hate,  and  the  bloodshot  eye  emitting  livid 
fires  of  malice.  Let  him  draw,  rather,  a  decorous,  smooth 
faced,  bloodless  demon ;  a  picture  in  repose,  rather  than  in 


ON   THE   TRIAL    OF   J.  F.  KNAPP.  349 

action  ;  not  so  much  an  example  of  human  nature,  in  its 
depravity,  and  in  its  paroxysms  of  crime,  as  an  infernal 
nature,  a  fiend,  in  the  ordinary  display  and  development 
of  his  character. 

The  deed  was  executed  with  a  degree  of  self-possession 
and  steadiness,  equal  to  the  wickedness  with  which  it  was 
planned.  The  circumstances,  now  clearly  in  evidence, 
spread  out  the  whole  scene  before  us.  Deep  sleep  had 
fallen  on  the  destined  victim,  and  on  all  beneath  his  roof. 
A  healthful  old  man,  to  whom  sleep  was  sweet,  the  first 
sound  slumbers  of  the  night  held  him  in  their  soft  but 
strong  embrace.  The  assassin  enters,  through  the  window 
already  prepared,  into  an  unoccupied  apartment.  With 
noiseless  foot  he  paces  the  lonely  hall,  half  lighted  by  the 
moon ;  he  winds  up  the  ascent  of  the  stairs,  and  reaches 
the  door  of  the  chamber.  Of  this,  he  moves  the  lock,  by 
soft  and  continued  pressure,  till  it  turns  on  its  hinges 
without  noise ;  and  he  enters,  and  beholds  his  victim  be 
fore  him.  The  room  was  uncommonly  open  to  the  admis 
sion  of  light.  The  face  of  the  innocent  sleeper  was 
turned  from  the  murderer,  and  the  beams  of  the  moon, 
resting  on  the  gray  locks  of  his  aged  temple,  showed  him 
where  to  strike.  The  fatal  blow  is  given  !  and  the  victim 
passes,  without  a  struggle  or  a  motion,  from  the  repose  of 
sleep  to  the  repose  of  death  !  It  is  the  assassin's  purpose 
to  make  sure  work ;  and  he  yet  plies  the  dagger,  though 
it  was  obvious  that  life  had  been  destroyed  by  the  blow 
of  the  bludgeon.  He  even  raises  the  aged  arm,  that  he 
may  not  fail  in  his  aim  at  the  heart,  and  replaces  it  again 
over  the  wounds  of  the  poniard  !  To  finish  the  picture, 
he  explores  the  wrist  for  the  pulse  !  He  feels  for  it,  arid 
ascertains  that  it  beats  no  longer !  It  is  accomplished  ! 
The  deed  is  done  !  He  retreats,  retraces  his  steps  to  the 
window,  passes  out  through  it  as  he  came  in,  and  escapes. 

30 


SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

He  has  done  the   murder — no  eye   has  seen  him,  no  ear 
has  heard  him  !     The  secret  is  his  own,  and  it  is  safe  ! 

Ah,  gentleman,  that  was  a  dreadful  mistake  !  Such  a 
secret  can  be  safe  nowhere.  The  whole  creation  of  God 
has  neither  nook  nor  corner,  where  the  guilty  can  bestow 
it,  and  say  it  is  safe.  Not  to  speak  of  that  eye  which 
glances  through  all  disguises,  and  beholds  every  thing,  as 
in  the  splendor  of  noon, — such  secrets  of  guilt  are  never 
safe  from  detection,  even  by  men.  True  it  is,  generally 
speaking,  that  "  murder  will  out."  True  it  is,  that  Pro 
vidence  hath  so  ordained,  and  doth  so  govern  things,  that 
those  who  break  the  great  law  of  heaven,  by  shedding 
man's  blood,  seldom  succeed  in  avoiding  discovery.  Es 
pecially,  in  a  case  exciting  so  much  attention  as  this, 
discovery  must  come,  and  will  come,  sooner  or  later.  A 
thousand  eyes  turn  at  once  to  explore  every  man,  every 
thing,  every  circumstance,  connected  with  the  time  and 
place;  a  thousand  ears  catch  every  whisper;  a  thousand 
excited  minds  intensely  dwell  on  the  scene,  shedding  all 
their  light,  and  ready  to  kindle  the  slightest  circumstance 
into  a  blaze  of  discovery.  Meantime,  the  guilty  soul 
cannot  keep  its  own  secret.  It  is  false  to  itself;  or 
rather  it  feels  an  irresistible  impulse  of  conscience  to  be 
true  to  itself.  It  labors  under  its  guilty  possession,  and 
knows  not  what  to  do  with  it.  The  human  heart  was 
not  made  for  the  residence  of  such  an  inhabitant.  It 
finds  itself  preyed  on  by  a  torment,  which  it  dares  not 
acknowledge  to  God  nor  man.  A  vulture  is  devouring  it, 
and  it  can  ask  no  sympathy  or  assistance,  either  from 
heaven  or  earth.  The  secret  which  the  murderer 
possesses  soon  comes  to  possess  him ;  and,  like  the  evil 
spirits  of  which  we  read,  it  overcomes  him,  and  leads 
him  whithersoever  it  will.  He  feels  it  beating  at  his 
heart,  rising  to  his  throat,  and  demanding  disclosure. 


ON   THE   TRIAL    OF   J.  F.  KNAPP.  351 

He  thinks  the  whole  world  sees  it  in  his  face,  reads  it  in 
his  eyes,  and  almost  hears  its  workings  in  the  very  silence 
of  his  thoughts.  It  has  become  his  master.  It  betrays 
his  discretion,  it  breaks  down  his  courage,  it  conquers  his 
prudence.  When  suspicions,  from  without,  begin  to  em 
barrass  him,  and  the  net  of  circumstance  to  entangle  him, 
the  fatal  secret  struggles  with  still  greater  violence  to 
burst  forth.  It  must  be  confessed,  it  ivill  be  confessed ; 
there  is  no  refuge  from  confession  but  suicide,  and  suicide 
is  confession. 

Much  has  been  said,  on  this  occasion,  of  the  excite 
ment  which  has  existed,  and  still  exists,  and  of  the 
extraordinary  measures  taken  to  discover  and  punish  the 
guilty.  No  doubt  there  has  been,  and  is,  much  excite 
ment,  and  strange  indeed  were  it,  had  it  been  otherwise. 
Should  not  all  the  peaceable  and  well-disposed  naturally 
feel  concerned,  and  naturally  exert  themselves  to  bring  to 
punishment  the  authors  of  this  secret  assassination  ?  Was 
it  a  thing  to  be  slept  upon  or  forgotten  ?  Did  you,  gentle 
men,  sleep  quite  as  quietly  in  your  beds  after  this  murder 
as  before  ?  Was  it  not  a  case  for  rewards,  for  meetings,  for 
committees,  for  the  united  efforts  of  all  the  good,  to  find 
out  a  band  of  murderous  conspirators,  of  midnight  ruf 
fians,  and  to  bring  them  to  the  bar  of  justice  and  law  ? 
If  this  be  excitement,  is  it  an  unnatural  or  an  improper 
excitement  ? 

It  seems  to  me,  gentlemen,  that  there  are  appearances 
of  another  feeling,  of  a  very  different  nature  and  character, 
not  very  extensive  I  would  hope,  but  still  there  is  too  much 
evidence  of  its  existence.  Such  is  human  nature,  that 
some  persons  lose  their  abhorrence  of  crime,  in  their 
admiration  of  its  magnificent  exhibitions.  Ordinary  vice 
is  reprobated  by  them,  but  extraordinary  guilt,  exquisite 
wickedness,  the  high  flights  and  poetry  of  crime,  seize  on 


352  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

the  imagination,  and  lead  them  to  forget  the  depths  of  the 
guilt,  in  admiration  of  the  excellence  of  the  performance, 
or  the  unequalled  atrocity  of  the  purpose.  There  are  those 
in  our  day,  who  have  made  great  use  of  this  infirmity  of 
our  nature,  and  by  means  of  it  done  infinite  injury  to  the 
cause  of  good  morals.  They  have  affected  not  only  the 
taste,  but  I  fear  also  the  principles,  of  the  young,  the 
heedless,  and  the  imaginative,  by  the  exhibition  of  inte 
resting  and  beautiful  monsters.  They  render  depravity 
attractive,  sometimes  by  the  polish  of  its  manners,  and 
sometimes  by  its  very  extravagance,  and  study  to  show 
off  crime  under  all  the  advantages  of  cleverness  and  dex 
terity.  Gentlemen,  this  is  an  extraordinary  murder — but 
it  is  still  a  murder.  We  are  not  to  lose  ourselves  in  wonder 
at  its  origin,  or  in  gazing  on  its  cool  and  skilful  execution. 
We  are  to  detect  and  to  punish  it ;  and  while  we  proceed 
with  caution  against  the  prisoner,  and  are  to  be  sure  that 
we  do  not  visit  on  his  head  the  offences  of  others,  we  are 
yet  to  consider  that  we  are  dealing  with  a  case  of  most 
atrocious  crime,  which  has  not  the  slightest  circumstance 
about  it  to  soften  its  enormity.  It  is  murder,  deliberate, 
concerted,  malicious  murder. 

Although  the  interest  in  this  case  may  have  diminished 
by  the  repeated  investigation  of  the  facts ;  still,  the  addi 
tional  labor  which  it  imposes  upon  all  concerned  is  not  to 
be  regretted,  if  it  should  result  in  removing  all  doubts  of 
the  guilt  of  the  prisoner. 

The  learned  counsel  for  the  prisoner  has  said  truly,  that 
it  is  your  individual  duty  to  judge  the  prisoner, — that  it  is 
your  individual  duty  to  determine  his  guilt  or  innocence — 
and  that  you  are  to  weigh  the  testimony  with  candor  and 
fairness.  But  much  at  the  same  time  has  been  said,  which, 
although  it  would  seem  to  have  no  distinct  bearing  on  the 
trial,  cannot  be  passed  over  without  some  notice. 


ON   THE  TRIAL   OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.  353 

A  tone  of  complaint  so  peculiar  has  been  indulged,  as 
would  almost  lead  us  to  doubt  whether  the  prisoner  at  the 
bar,  or  the  managers  of  this  prosecution,  are  now  on  trial. 
Great  pains  have  been  taken  to  complain  of  the  manner 
of  the  prosecution.  We  hear  of  getting  up  a  case ;  of 
setting  in  motion  trains  of  machinery ;  of  foul  testimony ; 
of  combinations  to  overwhelm  the  prisoner;  of  private 
prosecutors ;  that  the  prisoner  is  hunted,  persecuted,  driven 
to  his  trial ;  that  everybody  is  against  him ;  and  various 
other  complaints,  as  if  those  who  would  bring  to  punish 
ment  the  authors  of  this  murder  were  almost  as  bad  as  they 
who  committed  it. 

In  the  course  of  my  whole  life,  I  have  never  heard  before, 
so  much  said  about  the  particular  counsel  who  happened  to 
be  employed ;  as  if  it  were  extraordinary,  that  other  counsel 
than  the  usual  officers  of  the  Government  should  be  assist 
ing  in  the  conducting  of  a  case  on  the  part  of  the  Govern 
ment.  In  one  of  the  last  capital  trials  in  this  county,  that 
of  Jackman  for  "the  Goodridge  robbery,"  (so  called,)  I 
remember  that  the  learned  head  of  the  Suffolk  Bar,  Mr. 
Prescott,  came  down  in  aid  of  the  officers  of  the  Govern 
ment.  This  was  regarded  as  neither  strange  nor  improper. 
The  counsel  for  the  prisoner,  in  that  case,  contented  them 
selves  with  answering  his  arguments,  as  far  as  they  were 
able,  instead  of  carping  at  his  presence. 

Complaint  is  made  that  rewards  were  offered,  in  this  case, 
and  temptations  held  out  to  obtain  testimony.  Are  not 
rewards  always  offered,  when  great  and  secret  offences  are 
committed?  Rewards  were  offered  in  the  case  to  which  I 
have  alluded ;  and  every  other  means  taken  to  discover  the 
offenders,  that  ingenuity,  or  the  most  persevering  vigilance, 
could  suggest.  The  learned  counsel  have  suffered  their 
zeal  to  lead  them  into  a  strain  of  complaint,  at  the  manner 
in  which  the  perpetrators  of  this  crime  were  detected, 

so* 


354  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

almost  indicating  that  they  regard  it  as  a  positive  injury, 
to  them,  to  have  found  out  their  guilt.  Since  no  man  wit 
nessed  it,  since  they  do  not  now  confess  it,  attempts  to 
discover  it  are  half  esteemed  as  officious  intermeddling,  and 
impertinent  inquiry. 

It  is  said,  that  here  even  a  committee  of  vigilance  was 
appointed.  This  is  a  subject  of  reiterated  remark.  This 
committee  are  pointed  at,  as  though  they  had  been  offi 
ciously  intermeddling  with  the  administration  of  justice. 
They  are  said  to  have  been  "laboring  for  months"  against 
the  prisoner.  Gentlemen,  what  must  we  do  in  such  a  case  ? 
Are  people  to  be  dumb  and  still,  through  fear  of  overdoing  ? 
Is  it  come  to  this,  that  an  effort  cannot  be  made,  a  hand 
cannot  be  lifted,  to  discover  the  guilty,  without  its  being 
said,  there  is  a  combination  to  overwhelm  innocence  ?  Has 
the  community  lost  all  moral  sense?  Certainly,  a  com 
munity  that  would  not  be  roused  to  action,  upon  an  occa 
sion  such  as  this  was,  a  community  which  should  not  deny 
sleep  to  their  eyes,  and  slumber  to  their  eyelids,  till  they 
had  exhausted  all  the  means  of  discovery  and  detection, 
must,  indeed,  be  lost  to  all  moral  sense,  and  would  scarcely 
deserve  protection  from  the  laws.  The  learned  counse1 
have  endeavored  to  persuade  you,  that  there  exists  a  pre 
judice  against  the  persons  accused  of  this  murder.  They 
would  have  you  understand  that  it  is  not  confined  to  this 
vicinity  alone,  but  that  even  the  Legislature  have  caught 
this  spirit.  That  through  the  procurement  of  the  gentle 
man,  here  styled  private  prosecutor,  who  is  a  member  of 
the  Senate,  a  special  session  of  this  court  was  appointed 
for  the  trial  of  these  offenders.  That  the  ordinary  move 
ments  of  the  wheels  of  justice  were  too  slow  for  the  pur 
poses  devised. — But  does  not  everybody  see  and  know  that 
it  was  matter  of  absolute  necessity  to  have  a  special  session 
of  the  court  ?  When  or  how  could  the  prisoners  have  been 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         355 

tried  without  a  special  session  ?  In  the  ordinary  arrange 
ment  of  the  courts,  but  one  week,  in  a  year,  is  allotted  for 
tne  whole  court  to  sit  in  this  county.  In  the  trial  of  all 
capital  offences  a  majority  of  the  court,  at  least,  are  re 
quired  to  be  present.  In  the  trial  of  the  present  case 
alone,  three  weeks  have  already  been  taken  up.  Without 
such  special  session,  then,  three  years  would  not  have  been 
sufficient  for  the  purpose.  It  is  answer  sufficient  to  all 
complaints  on  this  subject,  to  say,  that  the  law  was  drawn 
by  the  late  chief  justice  himself,  to  enable  the  court  to 
accomplish  its  duties ;  and  to  afford  the  persons  accused 
an  opportunity  for  trial  without  delay. 

Again,  it  is  said,  that  it  was  not  thought  of  making 
Francis  Knapp,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  a  PRINCIPAL  till 
after  the  death  of  Richard  Crowninshield,  Jun. ;  that  the 
present  indictment  is  an  after- thought — that  "  testimony 
was  got  up"  for  the  occasion.  It  is  not  so.  There  is  no 
authority  for  this  suggestion.  The  case  of  the  Knapps 
had  not  then  been  before  the  grand  jury.  The  officers  of 
the  Government  did  not  know  what  the  testimony  would 
be  against  them.  They  could  not,  therefore,  have  deter 
mined  what  course  they  should  pursue.  They  intended  tc 
arraign  all  as  principals,  who  should  appear  to  have  beer? 
principals ;  and  all  as  accessories,  who  should  appear  t<? 
have  been  accessories.  All  this  could  be  known  only 
when  the  evidence  should  be  produced. 

But  the  learned  counsel  for  the  defendant  take  a  some 
what  loftier  flight  still.  They  are  more  concerned,  they 
assure  us,  for  the  law  itself,  than  even  for  their  client. 
Your  decision,  in  this  case,  they  say,  will  stand  as  a  pre 
cedent.  Gentlemen,  we  hope  it  will.  We  hope  it  will  be 
a  precedent,  both  of  candor  and  intelligence,  of  fairness 
and  of  firmness  ;  a  precedent  of  good  sense  and  honest 
purpose,  pursuing  their  investigation  discreetly,  rejecting 


356  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

loose  generalities,  exploring  all  the  circumstances,  weigh 
ing  each,  in  search  of  truth,  and  embracing  and  declaring 
the  truth,  when  found. 

It  is  said,  that  "  laws  are  made,  not  for  the  punishment 
$f  the  guilty,  but  for  the  protection  of  the  innocent." 
This  is  not  quite  accurate,  perhaps,  but  if  so,  we  hope  they 
will  be  so  administered  as  to  give  that  protection.  But 
who  are  the  innocent,  whom  the  law  would  protect? 
Gentlemen,  Joseph  White  was  innocent.  They  are  inno 
cent  who,  having  lived  in  the  fear  of  God,  through  the 
day,  wish  to  sleep  in  his  peace  through  the  night,  in  their 
own  beds.  The  law  is  established,  that  those  who  live 
quietly,  may  sleep  quietly;  that  they  who  do  no  harm, 
may  feel  none.  The  gentleman  can  think  of  none  that 
are  innocent,  except  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  not  yet  con 
victed.  Is  a  proved  conspirator  to  murder,  innocent  ? 
Are  the  Crowninshields  and  the  Knapps,  innocent  ?  What 
is  innocence  ?  How  deep  stained  with  blood, — how  reck 
less  in  crime, — how  deep  in  depravity,  may  it  be,  and  yet 
remain  innocence  ?  The  law  is  made,  if  we  would  speak 
with  entire  accuracy,  to  protect  the  innocent,  by  punishing 
the  guilty.  But  there  are  those  innocent,  out  of  court  as 
well  as  in ; — innocent  citizens  not  suspected  of  crime,  as 
well  as  innocent  prisoners  at  the  bar. 

The  criminal  law  is  not  founded  in  a  principle  of  ven 
geance.  It  does  not  punish,  that  it  may  inflict  suffering. 
The  humanity  of  the  law  feels  and  regrets  every  pain  it 
causes,  every  hour  of  restraint  it  imposes,  and  more  deeply 
still,  every  life  it  forfeits.  But  it  uses  evil,  as  the  means 
of  preventing  greater  evil.  It  seeks  to  deter  from  crime, 
by  the  example  of  punishment.  This  is  its  true,  and  only 
true  main  object.  It  restrains  the  liberty  of  the  few 
offenders,  that  the  many  who  do  not  offend  may  enjoy 
their  own  liberty.  It  forfeits  the  life  of  the  murderer,  that 


ON   THE   TRIAL   OF   J.  F.  KNAPP.  357 

other  murders  may  not  be  committed.  The  law  might 
open  the  jails,  and  at  once  set  free  all  persons  accused  of 
offences,  and  it  ought  to  do  so,  if  it  could  be  made  certain 
that  no  other  offences  would  hereafter  be  committed. 
Because  it  punishes,  not  to  satisfy  any  desire  to  inflict 
pain,  but  simply  to  prevent  the  repetition  of  crimes. 
When  the  guilty,  therefore,  are  not  punished,  the  law  has, 
so  far,  failed  of  its  purpose ;  the  safety  of  the  innocent  is, 
so  far,  endangered.  Every  unpunished  murder  takes 
away  something  from  the  security  of  every  man's  life. 
And  whenever  a  jury,  through  whimsical  and  ill-founded 
scruples,  suffer  the  guilty  to  escape,  they  make  themselves 
answerable  for  the  augmented  danger  of  the  innocent. 

We  wish  nothing  to  be  strained  against  this  defendant. 
Why,  then,  all  this  alarm  ?  Why  all  this  complaint 
against  the  manner  in  which  the  crime  is  discovered  ? 
The  prisoner's  counsel  catch  at  supposed  flaws  of  evidence, 
or  bad  character  of  witnesses,  without  meeting  the  case. 
Do  they  mean  to  deny  the  conspiracy  ?  Do  they  mean  to 
deny  that  the  two  Crowninshields  and  the  two  Knapps 
were  conspirators  ?  Why  do  they  rail  against  Palmer, 
while  they  do  not  disprove,  and  hardly  dispute,  the  truth 
of  any  one  fact  sworn  to  by  him  ?  Instead  of  this,  it  is 
made  matter  of  sentimentality,  that  Palmer  has  been  pre 
vailed  upon  to  betray  his  bosom  companions,  and  to  violate 
the  sanctity  of  friendship :  again,  I  ask,  why  do  they  not 
meet  the  case  ?  If  the  fact  is  out,  why  not  meet  it  ?  Do 
they  mean  to  deny  that  Captain  White  is  dead  ?  One  should 
have  almost  supposed  even  that,  from  some  remarks  that 
have  been  made.  Do  they  mean  to  deny  the  conspiracy  ? 
Or,  admitting  a  conspiracy,  do  they  mean  to  deny  only, 
that  Frank  Knapp,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  was  abetting 
in  the  murder,  being  present,  and  so  deny  that  he  was  a 
principal?  If  a  conspiracy  is  proved,  it  bears  closely 


858  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTE.R. 

upon  every  subsequent  subject  of  inquiry.  Why  don't 
they  come  to  the  fact  ?  Here  the  defence  is  wholly  indis 
tinct.  The  counsel  neither  take  the  ground,  nor  abandon 
it.  They  neither  fly,  nor  light.  They  hover.  But  they 
must  come  to  a  closer  mode  of  contest.  They  must  meet 
the  facts,  and  either  deny  or  admit  them.  Had  the 
prisoner  at  the  bar,  then,  a  knowledge  of  this  conspiracy 
or  not  ?  This  is  the  question.  Instead  of  laying  out  their 
strength  in  complaining  of  the  manner  in  which  the  deed 
is  discovered, — of  the  extraordinary  pains  taken  to  bring 
the  prisoner's  guilt  to  light ; — would  it  not  be  better  to 
show  there  was  no  guilt  ?  Would  it  not  be  better  to  show 
his  innocence  ?  They  say,  and  they  complain,  that  the 
community  feel  a  great  desire  that  he  should  be  punished 
for  his  crimes; — would  it  not  be  better  to  convince  you 
that  he  has  committed  no  crime? 

Gentlemen,  let  us  now  come  to  the  case.  Your  first 
inquiry,  on  the  evidence,  will  be, — was  Captain  White  mur 
dered  in  pursuance  of  a  conspiracy,  and  was  the  defendant 
one  of  this  conspiracy  ?  If  so,  the  second  inquiry  is, — was 
he  so  connected  with  the  murder  itself  as  that  he  is  liable 
to  be  convicted  as  a  principal?  The  defendant  is  indicted 
as  a  principal.  If  not  guilty  as  such,  you  cannot  convict 
him.  The  indictment  contains  three  distinct  classes  of 
counts.  In  the  first,  he  is  charged  as  having  done  the 
deed,  with  his  own  hand ; — in  the  second,  as  an  aider  and 
abettor  to  Richard  Crowninshield,  Jr.,  who  did  the  deed  ; — 
in  the  third,  as  an  aider  and  abettor  to  some  person 
unknown.  If  you  believe  him  guilty  on  either  of  these 
counts,  or  in  either  of  these  ways,  you  must  convict  him. 

It  may  be  proper  to  say,  as  a  preliminary  remark,  that 
there  are  two  extraordinary  circumstances  attending  this 
trial.  One  is,  that  Richard  Crowninshield,  Jr.,  the  sup 
posed  immediate  perpetrator  of  the  murder,  since  his  arrest, 


ON   THE   TRIAL    OF   J.  F.  KNAPF.  359 

has  committed  suicide.  He  has  gone  to  answer  before  a 
tribunal  of  perfect  infallibility.  The  other  is,  that  Joseph 
Knapp,  the  supposed  origin  and  planner  of  the  murder, 
having  once  made  a  full  disclosure  of  the  facts,  under  a 
promise  of  indemnity,  is,  nevertheless,  not  now  a  witness. 
Notwithstanding  his  disclosure,  and  his  promise  of  in 
demnity,  he  now  refuses  to  testify.  He  chooses  to  return 
to  his  original  state,  and  now  stands  answerable  himself, 
when  the  time  shall  come  for  his  trial.  These  circum 
stances  it  is  fit  you  should  remember,  in  your  investigation 
of  the  case. 

Your  decision  may  affect  more  than  the  life  of  this  de 
fendant.  If  he  be  not  convicted  as  principal,  no  one  can 
be.  Nor  can  any  one  be  convicted  of  a  participation  in 
the  crime  as  accessory.  The  Knapps  and  George  Crownin- 
shield  will  be  again  on  the  community.  This  shows  the 
importance  of  the  duty  you  have  to  perform ; — and  to 
remind  you  of  the  degree  of  care  and  wisdom  necessary 
to  be  exercised  in  its  performance.  But  certainly  these 
considerations  do  not  render  the  prisoner's  guilt  any 
clearer,  nor  enhance  the  weight  of  the  evidence  against 
him.  No  one  desires  you  to  regard  consequences  in  that 
light.  No  one  wishes  any  thing  to  be  strained,  or  too  far 
pressed  against  the  prisoner.  Still,  it  is  fit  you  should  see 
the  full  importance  of  the  duty  devolved  upon  you.  And 
now,  gentlemen,  in  examining  this  evidence,  let  us  begin  at 
the  beginning,  and  see  first  what  we  know  independent  of 
the  disputed  testimony.  This  is  a  case  of  circumstantial 
evidence.  And  these  circumstances,  we  think,  are  full  and 
satisfactory.  The  case  mainly  depends  upon  them,  and  it 
is  common  that  offences  of  this  kind  must  be  proved  in 
this  way.  Midnight  assassins  take  no  witnesses.  The 
evidence  of  the  facts  relied  on  has  been,  somewhat  sneer- 
ingly,  denominated  by  the  learned  counsel,  "circumstantial 


360  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

sniff"  but  it  is  not  such  stuff  as  dreams  are  made  of. 
Why  does  he  not  rend  this  stuff?  Why  does  he  not  tear 
it  away,  with  the  crush  of  his  hand?  He  dismisses  it  a 
little  too  summarily.  It  shall  be  my  business  to  examine 
this  stuff  and  try  its  cohesion. 

The  letter  from  Palmer  at  Belfast,  is  that  no  more  than 
flimsy  stuff? 

The  fabricated  letters,  from  Knapp  to  the  committee, 
and  Mr.  White,  are  they  nothing  but  stuff? 

The  circumstance,  that  the  housekeeper  was  away  at  the 
time  the  murder  was  committed,  as  it  was  agreed  she 
would  be,  is  that,  too,  a  useless  piece  of  the  same  stuff? 

The  facts,  that  the  key  of  the  chamber-door  was  taken 
out  and  secreted ;  that  the  window  was  unbarred  and 
unbolted;  are  these  to  be  so  slightly  and  so  easily  dis 
posed  of? 

It  is  necessary,  gentlemen,  now  to  settle,  at  the  com 
mencement,  the  great  question  of  a  conspiracy.  If  there 
was  none,  or  the  defendant  was  not  a  party,  then  there  is 
no  evidence  here  to  convict  him.  If  there  was  a  con 
spiracy,  and  he  is  proved  to  have  been  a  party,  then  these 
two  facts  have  a  strong  bearing  on  others  and  all  the  great 
points  of  inquiry.  The  defendant's  counsel  take  no  dis 
tinct  ground,  as  I  have  already  said,  on  this  point,  neither 
to  admit,  nor  to  deny.  They  choose  to  confine  themselves 
to  a  hypothetical  mode  of  speech.  They  say,  supposing 
there  was  a  conspiracy,  non  sequitur,  that  the  prisoner  is 
guilty,  as  principal.  Be  it  so.  But  still,  if  there  was  a 
conspiracy,  and  if  he  was  a  conspirator,  and  helped  to 
plan  the  murder,  this  may  shed  much  light  on  the  evidence, 
which  goes  to  charge  him  with  the  execution  of  that  plan. 

We  mean  to  make  out  the  conspiracy ;  and  that  the  de 
fendant  was  a  party  to  it;  and  then  to  draw  all  just 
inferences  from  these  facts. 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         361 

Let  me  ask  your  attention,  then,  in  the  first  place,  to 
those  appearances,  on  the  morning  after  the  murder,  which 
have  a  tendency  to  show,  that  it  was  done  in  pursuance  of 
a  preconcerted  plan  of  operation.  What  are  they  ?  A  man 
was  found  murdered  in  his  bed. — No  stranger  had  done  the 
deed — no  one  unacquainted  with  the  house  had  done  it. — 
It  was  apparent,  that  somebody  from  within  had  opened, 
and  somebody  from  without  had  entered. — There  had  been 
there,  obviously  and  certainly,  concert  and  co-operation. 
The  inmates  of  the  house  were  not  alarmed  when  the  mur 
der  was  perpetrated.  The  assassin  had  entered,  without 
any  riot,  or  any  violence.  He  had  found  the  way  prepared 
before  him.  The  house  had  been  previously  opened.  The 
window  was  unbarred,  from  within,  and  its  fastening  un 
screwed.  There  was  a  lock  on  the  door  of  the  chamber 
in  which  Mr.  White  slept,  but  the  key  was  gone.  It  had 
been  taken  away,  and  secreted.  The  footsteps  of  the 
murderer  were  visible,  out  doors,  tending  toward  the  win 
dow.  The  plank  by  which  he  entered  the  window  still 
remained.  The  road  he  pursued  had  been  thus  prepared 
for  him.  The  victim  was  slain,  and  the  murderer  has  es 
caped.  Every  thing  indicated  that  somebody  from  within 
had  co-operated  with  somebody  from  without.  Every  thing 
proclaimed  that  some  of  the  inmates,  or  somebody  having 
access  to  the  house,  had  had  a  hand  in  the  murder.  On 
the  face  of  the  circumstances,  it  was  apparent,  therefore, 
that  this  was  a  premeditated,  concerted,  conspired  murder. 
Who  then  were  the  conspirators  ?  If  not  now  found  out, 
we  are  still  groping  in  the  dark,  and  the  whole  tragedy  is 
still  a  mystery. 

If  the  Knapps  and  the  Crowninshields  were  not  the  con 
spirators  in  this  murder,  then  there  is  a  whole  set  of  con 
spirators  yet  not  discovered.  Because,  independent  of  the 
testimony  of  Palmer  and  Leighton,  independent  of  all  dis- 

31 


362  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

puted  evidence,  we  know,  from  uncontro^  erted  facts,  that 
this  murder  was,  and  must  have  been,  the  result  of  concert 
and  co-operation,  between  two  or  more.  We  know  it  was 
not  done,  without  plan  and  deliberation ;  we  see,  that  who 
ever  entered  the  house,  to  strike  the  blow,  was  favored 
and  aided  by  some  one,  who  had  been  previously  in  the 
house,  without  suspicion,  and  who  had  prepared  the  way. 
This  is  concert,  this  is  co-operation,  this  is  conspiracy.  If 
the  Knapps  and  the  Crowninshields,  then,  were  not  the 
conspirators,  who  were  ?  Joseph  Knapp  had  a  motive  to 
desire  the  death  of  Mr.  White,  and  that  motive  has  been 
shown. 

He  was  connected  by  marriage  in  the  family  of  Mr. 
White.  His  wife  was  the  daughter  of  Mrs.  Beckford, 
who  was  the  only  child  of  a  sister  of  the  deceased.  The 
deceased  was  more  than  eighty  years  old,  and  he  had  no 
children.  His  only  heirs  were  nephews  and  nieces.  He  was 
supposed  to  be  possessed  of  a  very  large  fortune, — which 
would  have  descended,  by  law,  to  his  several  nephews 
and  nieces  in  equal  shares,  or,  if  there  was  a  will,  then 
according  to  the  will.  But  as  Captain  White  had  but  two 
branches  of  heirs — the  children  of  his  brother  Henry 
White,  and  of  Mrs.  Beckford — according  to  the  common 
idea  each  of  these  branches  would  have  shared  one-half 
of  Mr.  White's  property. 

This  popular  idea  is  not  legally  correct.  But  it  is  com 
mon,  and  very  probably  was  entertained  by  the  parties. 
According  to  this,  Mrs.  Beckford,  on  Mr.  White's  death 
without  a  will,  would  have  been  entitled  to  one-half  of 
Mr.  White's  ample  fortune ;  and  Joseph  Knapp  had 
married  one  of  her  three  children.  There  was  a  will, 
and  this  will  gave  the  bulk  of  the  property  to  others ; 
and  we  learn  from  Palmer  that  one  part  of  the  design  was 
to  destroy  the  will  before  the  murder  was  committed. 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         363 

There  had  been  a  previous  will,  and  that  previous  will  was 
known  or  believed  to  have  been  more  favorable  than  the 
other,  to  the  Beckford  family.  So  that  by  destroying  the 
last  will,  and  destroying  the  life  of  the  testator  at  the 
same  time,  either  the  first  and  more  favorable  will  would 
be  set  up,  or  the  deceased  would  have  no  will,  which 
would  be,  as  was  supposed,  still  more  favorable.  But  the 
conspirators  not  having  succeeded  in  obtaining  and  de 
stroying  the  last  will,  though  they  accomplished  the  mur 
der,  but  the  last  will  being  found  in  existence  and  safe, 
and  that  will  bequeathing  the  mass  of  the  property  to 
others,  it  seemed,  at  the  time,  impossible  for  Joseph 
Knapp,  as  for  any  one  else,  indeed,  but  the  principal 
devisee,  to  have  any  motive  which  should  lead  to  the 
murder.  The  key  which  unlocks  the  whole  mystery,  is, 
the  knowledge  of  the  intention  of  the  conspirators  to  steal 
the  will.  This  is  derived  from  Palmer,  and  it  explains 
all.  It  solves  the  whole  marvel.  It  shows  the  motive 
actuating  those,  against  whom  there  is  much  evidence,  but 
who,  without  the  knowledge  of  this  intention,  were  not 
seen  to  have  had  a  motive.  This  intention  is  proved,  as  I 
have  said,  by  Palmer ;  and  it  is  so  congruous  with  all  the 
rest  of  the  case,  it  agrees  so  well  with  all  facts  and  cir 
cumstances,  that  no  man  could  well  withhold  his  belief, 
though  the  facts  were  stated  by  a  still  less  credible  witness. 
If  one,  desirous  of  opening  a  lock,  turns  over  and  tries 
a  bunch  of  keys  till  he  finds  one  that  will  open  it,  he 
naturally  supposes  he  has  found  the  key  of  that  lock. 
So  in  explaining  circumstances  of  evidence,  which  are 
apparently  irreconcilable,  or  unaccountable,  if  a  fact  be 
suggested,  which  at  once  accounts  for  all,  and  reconciles 
all.  by  whomsoever  it  may  be  stated,  it  is  still  difficult  not 
to  believe  that  such  fact  is  the  true  fact  belonging  to  the 
case.  In  this  respect,  Palmer's  testimony  is  singularly 


364  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

confirmed.  If  he  were  false,  then  his  ingenuity  could  not 
furnish  us  such  clear  exposition  of  strange  appearing 
circumstances.  Some  truth,  not  before  known,  can  alone 
do  that. 

When  we  look  back,  then,  to  the  state  of  things  im 
mediately  on  the  discovery  of  the  murder,  we  see  that 
suspicion  would  naturally  turn  at  once,  not  to  the  heirs- 
at-law,  but  to  those  principally  benefited  by  the  will. 
They,  and  they  alone,  would  be  supposed  or  seem  to  have 
a  direct  object  for  wishing  Mr.  White's  life  to  be  termi 
nated.  And,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  we  find  counsel  now 
insisting,  that  if  no  apology,  it  is  yet  mitigation  of  the 
atrocity  of  the  Knapps'  conduct  in  attempting  to  charge 
this  foul  murder  on  Mr.  White,  the  nephew  and  principal 
devisee,  that  public  suspicion  was  already  so  directed ! 
As  if  assassination  of  character  were  excusable,  in  pro 
portion  as  circumstances  may  render  it  easy.  Their  en 
deavors,  when  they  knew  they  were  suspected  themselves, 
to  fix  the  charge  on  others,  by  foul  means  and  by  false 
hood,  are  fair  and  strong  proof  of  their  own  guilt.  But 
more  of  that  hereafter. 

The  counsel  say  that  they  might  safely  admit,  that 
Richard  Crowninshield,  Jr.  was  the  perpetrator  of  this 
murder. 

But  how  could  they  safely  admit  that  ?  If  that  were 
admitted,  every  thing  else  would  follow.  For  why  should 
Richard  Crowninshield,  Jr.  kill  Mr.  White  ?  He  was 
not  his  heir,  nor  his  devisee ;  nor  was  he  his  enemy. 
What  could  be  his  motive?  If  Richard  Crowninshield, 
Jr.  killed  Mr.  White,  he  did  it,  at  some  one's  procurement 
who  himself  had  a  motive.  And  who,  having  any  motive, 
is  shown  to  have  had  any  intercourse  with  Richard  Crown 
inshield,  Jr.  but  Joseph  Knapp,  and  this,  principally 
through  the  agency  of  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  ?  It  is  the 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         865 

infirmity,  the  distressing  difficulty  of  the  prisoner's  case, 
that  his  counsel  cannot  and  dare  not  admit  what  they  yet 
cannot  disprove  and  what  all  must  believe.  He  who 
believes,  on  this  evidence,  that  Richard  Crowninshield,  Jr. 
was  the  immediate  murderer,  cannot  doubt  that  both  the 
Knapps  were  conspirators  in  that  murder.  The  counsel, 
therefore,  are  wrong,  I  think,  in  saying  they  might  safely 
admit  this.  The  admission  of  so  important,  and  so  con 
nected  a  fact,  would  render  it  impossible  to  contend 
further  against  the  proof  of  the  entire  conspiracy,  as  we 
state  it. 

What,  then,  was  this  conspiracy  ?  J.  J.  Knapp,  Jr., 
desirous  of  destroying  the  will,  and  of  taking  the  life  of 
the  deceased,  hired  a  ruffian,  who,  with  the  aid  of  other 
ruffians,  were  to  enter  the  house,  and  murder  him,  in  his 
own  bed. 

As  far  back  as  January,  this  conspiracy  began.  Endi- 
cott  testifies  to  a  conversation  with  J.  J.  Knapp,  at  that 
time,  in  which  Knapp  told  him  that  Captain  White  had 
made  a  will,  and  given  the  principal  part  of  his  property 
to  Stephen  White.  When  asked  how  he  knew,  he  said, 
"  Black  and  white  don't  lie."  When  asked,  if  the  will 
was  not  locked  up,  he  said,  "  There  is  such  a  thing  as  two 
keys  to  the  same  lock."  And  speaking  of  the  then  late 
illness  of  Captain  White,  he  said,  that  Stephen  White 
would  not  have  been  sent  for,  if  he  had  been  there. 

Hence  he  appears,  that  as  early  as  January,  Knapp  had 
a  knowledge  of  the  will,  and  that  he  had  access  to  it,  by 
means  of  false  keys.  This  knowledge  of  the  will,  and  an 
intent  to  destroy  it,  appear  also  from  Palmer's  testimony, 
— a  fact  disclosed  to  him  by  the  other  conspirators.  He 
Bays,  that  he  was  informed  of  this  by  the  Crowninshields 
on  the  2d  of  April.  But,  then,  it  is  said  that  Palmer  is 
not  to  be  credited ;  that  by  his  own  confession  he  is  a 

31  * 


366         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

felon ;  that  he  has  been  in  the  State  prison  in  Maine ; 
and,  above  all,  that  he  was  an  inmate  and  associate  with 
these  conspirators  themselves.  Let  us  admit  these  facts. 
Let  us  admit  him  to  be  as  bad  as  they  would  represent 
him  to  be  ;  still,  in  law,  he  is  a  competent  witness.  How 
else  are  the  secret  designs  of  the  wicked  to  be  proved, 
but  by  their  wicked  companions,  to  whom  they  have  dis 
closed  them?  The  Government  does  not  select  its  wit 
nesses.  The  conspirators  themselves  have  chosen  Palmer. 
He  was  the  confidant  of  the  prisoners.  The  fact,  how 
ever,  does  not  depend  on  his  testimony  alone.  It  is  cor 
roborated  by  other  proof;  and,  taken  in  connection  with 
the  other  circumstances,  it  has  strong  probability.  In 
regard  to  the  testimony  of  Palmer,  generally. — it  may  be 
said,  that  it  is  less  contradicted,  in  all  parts  of  it,  either 
by  himself  or  others,  than  that  of  any  other  material 
witness,  and  that  every  thing  he  has  told,  has  been  cor 
roborated  by  other  evidence,  so  far  as  it  was  susceptible 
of  confirmation.  An  attempt  has  been  made  to  impair 
his  testimony,  as  to  his  being  at  the  half-way  house  on  the 
night  of  the  murder  ; — you  have  seen  with  what  success. 
Mr.  Babb  is  called  to  contradict  him  :  you  have  seen  how 
little  he  knows,  and  even  that  not  certainly ;  for  he,  him 
self,  is  proved  to  have  been  in  error,  by  supposing  him  to 
have  been  at  the  half-way  house  on  the  evening  of  the 
9th  of  April.  At  that  time,  Palmer  is  proved  to  have 
been  at  Dustin's  in  Danvers.  If,  then,  Palmer,  bad  as  he 
is,  has  disclosed  the  secrets  of  the  conspiracy,  and  has 
told  the  truth — there  is  no  reason  why  it  should  not  be 
believed.  Truth  is  truth,  come  whence  it  may. 

The  facts  show,  that  this  murder  had  been  long  in  agita 
tion,  that  it  was  not  a  new  proposition,  on  the  2d  of 
April ;  that  it  had  been  contemplated  for  five  or  six 
weeks  before.  H.  Crowninshield  was  at  Wenliam  in  the 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         367 

latter  part  of  March,  as  testified  by  Starrett.  F.  Knapp 
was  at  Danvers,  in  the  latter  part  of  February,  as  testified 
by  Allen.  R.  Crowninshield  inquired  whether  Captain 
Knapp  was  about  home,  when  at  Wenham.  The  proba 
bility  is,  that  they  would  open  the  case  to  Palmer,  as  a 
new  project.  There  are  other  circumstances  that  show  it 
to  have  been  some  weeks  in  agitation.  Palmer's  testi 
mony  as  to  the  transactions  on  the  2d  of  April,  is  cor 
roborated  by  Allen,  and  by  Osborn's  books.  He  says 
that  F.  Knapp  came  there  in  the  afternoon,  and  again  in. 
the  evening.  So  the  book  shows.  He  says  that  Captain 
White  had  gone  out  to  his  farm  on  that  day.  So  others 
prove.  How  could  this  fact,  or  these  facts,  have  been 
known  to  Palmer,  unless  F.  Knapp  had  brought  the 
knowledge  ?  and  was  it  not  the  special  object  of  this 
visit,  to  give  information  of  this  fact,  that  they  might 
meet  him  and  execute  their  purpose  on  his  return  from 
his  farm  ?  The  letter  of  Palmer,  written  at  Belfast,  has 
intrinsic  evidence  of  genuineness.  It  was  mailed  at  Bel 
fast,  May  13th.  It  states  facts  that  he  could  not  have 
known,  unless  his  testimony  be  true.  This  letter  was 
not  an  after-thought ;  it  is  a  genuine  narrative.  In  fact, 
it  says,  u  I  know  the  business  your  brother  Frank  was 
transacting  on  the  2d  of  April:"  how  could  he  have 
possibly  known  this,  unless  he  had  been  there  ?  The 
"  $1000,  that  was  to  be  paid ;"  where  could  he  have  ob 
tained  this  knowledge  ?  The  testimony  of  Endicott,  of 
Palmer,  and  these  facts,  are  to  be  taken  together  ;  and 
they,  most  clearly,  show  that  the  death  of  Captain  White 
must  have  been  caused  by  somebody  interested  in  putting 
an  end  to  his  life. 

As  to  the  testimony  of  Leighton.  As  far  as  manner  of 
testifying  goes,  he  is  a  bad  witness :  but  it  does  not  follow 
from  tnis  that  he  is  not  to  be  believed.  There  are  some 


368         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

strange  things  about  him.  It  is  strange,  that  he  should 
make  up  a  story  against  Captain  Knapp,  the  person  with 
whom  he  lived  ; — that  he  never  voluntarily  told  any  thing : 
all  that  he  has  said  is  screwed  out  of  him.  The  story 
could  not  have  been  invented  by  him ;  his  character  for 
truth  is  unimpeached  ;  and  he  intimated  to  another  wit 
ness,  soon  after  the  murder  happened,  that  he  knew  some 
thing  he  should  not  tell.  There  is  not  the  least  contra 
diction  in  his  testimony,  though  he  gives  a  poor  account 
ef  withholding  it.  He  says  that  he  was  extremely 
bothered  by  those  who  questioned  him.  In  the  main  story 
that  he  relates,  he  is  universally  consistent  with  himself: 
some  things  are  for  him,  and  some  against  him.  Exa 
mine  the  intrinsic  probability  of  what  he  says.  See  if 
some  allowance  is  not  to  be  made  for  him,  on  account  of 
his  ignorance,  with  things  of  this  kind.  It  is  said  to  be 
extraordinary,  that  he  should  have  heard  just  so  much  of 
the  conversation  and  no  more ;  that  he  should  have  heard 
just  what  was  necessary  to  be  proved,  and  nothing  else. 
Admit  that  this  is  extraordinary ;  still,  this  does  not  prove 
it  not  true.  It  is  extraordinary  that  you  twelve  gentle 
men  should  be  called  upon,  out  of  all  the  men  in  the 
county,  to  decide  this  case :  no  one  could  have  foretold 
this,  three  weeks  since.  It  is  extraordinary,  that  the 
first  clew  to  this  conspiracy  should  have  been  derived 
from  information  given  by  the  father  of  the  prisoner  at 
the  bar.  And  in  every  case  that  comes  to  trial,  there  are 
many  things  extraordinary.  The  murder  itself  in  this 
case  is  an  extraordinary  one ;  but  still  we  do  not  doubt  its 
reality. 

It  is  argued,  that  this  conversation  between  Joseph  and 
Frank,  coiild  not  have  been,  as  Leighton  has  testified5  be 
cause  they  had  been  together  for  several  hours  before, — 
this  subject  must  have  been  uppermost  in  their  iniiids, — 


ON   THE   TRIAL   OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.  369 

whereas  this  appears  to  have  been  the  commencement  of 
their  conversation  upon  it.  Now,  this  depends  altogether 
upon  the  tone  and  manner  of  the  expression ;  upon  the 
particular  word  in  the  sentence,  which  was  emphatically 
spoken.  If  he  had  said,  "When  did  you  see  Dick> 
Frank  ?" — this  would  not  seem  to  be  the  beginning  of 
the  conversation.  With  what  emphasis  it  was  uttered,  it 
is  not  possible  to  learn ;  and  therefore  nothing  can  be 
made  of  this  argument.  If  this  boy's  testimony  stood 
alone,  it  should  be  received  with  caution.  And  the. 
same  may  be  said  of  the  testimony  of  Palmer.  But 
they  do  not  stand  alone.  They  furnish  a  clew  to  nume 
rous  other  circumstances,  which,  when  known,  react  in 
corroborating  what  would  have  been  received  with  caution, 
until  thus  corroborated.  How  could  Leighton  have  made 
up  this  conversation  ?  "  When  did  you  see  Dick  ?"  "  I 
saw  him  this  morning."  "When  is  he  going  to  kill  the 
old  man  ?"  "  I  don't  know."  "  Tell  him  if  he  don't  do 
it  soon,  I  won't  pay  him."  Here  is  a  vast  amount,  in 
few  words.  Had  he  wit  enough  to  invent  this  ?  There 
is  nothing  so  powerful  as  truth ;  and  often  nothing  so 
strange.  It  is  not  even  suggested  that  the  story  was 
made  for  him.  There  is  nothing  so  extraordinary  in  the 
whole  matter,  as  it  would  have  been  for  this  country  boy 
to  have  invented  this  story. 

The  acts  of  the  parties  themselves  furnish  strong  pre 
sumption  of  their  guilt.  What  was  done  on  the  receipt  of 
the  letter  from  Maine  ?  This  letter  was  signed  by  Charles 
Grrant,  Jr.,  a  person  not  known  to  either  of  the  Knapps, — 
nor  was  it  known  to  them  that  any  other  person,  besides 
the  Crowninshields,  knew  of  the  conspiracy.  This  letter, 
by  the  accidental  omission  of  the  word  jr.,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  father,  when  intended  for  the  son.  The 
father  carried  it  to  Wenham,  where  both  the  sons  were. 


370  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

They  both  read  it.  Fix  your  eye  steadily  on  this  part  of 
the  circumstantial  stuff,  which  is  in  the  case;  and  see 
what  can  be  made  of  it.  This  was  shown  to  the  two  bro 
thers  on  Saturday,  15th  of  May.  They,  neither  of  them, 
knew  Palmer.  And  if  they  had  known  him,  they  could 
not  have  known  him  to  have  been  the  writer  of  this  letter. 
It  was  mysterious  to  them,  how  any  one,  at  Belfast, 
could  have  had  knowledge  of  this  affair.  Their  conscious 
guilt  prevented  due  circumspection.  They  did  not  see  the 
bearing  of  its  publication.  They  advised  their  father  to 
carry  it  to  the  committee  of  vigilance,  and  it  was  so  car 
ried.  On  Sunday  following,  Joseph  began  to  think  there 
might  be  something  in  it.  Perhaps,  in  the  mean  time,  he 
had  seen  one  of  the  Crowninshields.  He  was  apprehensive 
that  they  might  be  suspected ;  he  was  anxious  to  turn 
attention  from  their  family.  What  course  did  he  adopt  to 
effect  this  ?  He  addressed  one  letter,  with  a  false  name, 
to  Mr.  White,  and  another  to  the  committee ;  and  to  com 
plete  the  climax  of  his  folly,  he  signed  the  letter  addressed 
to  the  committee,  "  Q-rant" — the  same  name  as  that 
signed  to  the  letter  they  then  had  from  Belfast,  addressed 
to  Knapp.  It  was  in  the  knowledge  of  the  committee, 
that  no  person  but  the  Knapps  had  seen  this  letter  from 
Belfast ;  and  that  no  other  person  knew  its  signature.  It 
therefore  must  have  been  irresistibly  plain,  to  them,  that 
one  of  the  Knapps  must  have  been  the  writer  of  the  letter 
they  had  received,  charging  the  murder  on  Mr.  White. 
Add  to  this  the  fact  of  its  having  been  dated  at  Lynn, 
and  mailed  at  Salem,  four  days  after  it  was  dated,  and 
who  could  doubt  respecting  it?  Have  you  ever  read,  or 
known,  of  folly  equal  to  this  ?  Can  you  conceive  of  crime 
more  odious  and  abominable  ?  Merely  to  explain  the 
apparent  mysteries  of  the  letter  from  Palmer,  they  excite 
the  basest  suspicions  of  a  man,  who,  if  they  were  innocent, 


ON   THE   TRIAL    OF   J.  F.  KNAPP.  371 

they  had  no  reason  to  believe  guilty;  and  wno,  if  they 
were  guilty,  they  most  certainly  knew  to  be  innocent. 
Could  they  have  adopted  a  more  direct  method  of  exposing 
their  own  infamy?  The  letter  to  the  committee  has 
intrinsic  marks  of  a  knowledge  of  this  transaction.  It 
tells  of  the  time,  and  the  manner  in  which  the  murder  was 
committed.  Every  line  speaks  the  writer's  condemnation. 
In  attempting  to  divert  attention  from  his  family,  and  to 
charge  the  guilt  upon  another,  he  indelibly  fixes  it  upon 
himself. 

Joseph  Knapp  requested  Allen  to  put  these  letters  into 
the  post-office,  because,  said  he,  "  I  wish  to  nip  this  silly 
affair  in  the  bud."  If  this  were  not  the  order  of  an  over 
ruling  Providence,  I  should  say  that  it  was  the  silliest 
piece  of  folly  that  was  ever  practised.  Mark  the  destiny 
of  crime.  It  is  ever  obliged  to  resort  to  such  subterfuges ; 
it  trembles  in  the  broad  light ;  it  betrays  itself,  in  seeking 
concealment.  He  alone  walks  safely,  who  walks  uprightly. 
Who,  for  a  moment,  can  read  these  letters  and  doubt  of 
J.  Knapp's  guilt  ?  The  constitution  of  nature  is  made  to 
inform  against  him.  There  is  no  corner  dark  enough  to 
conceal  him.  There  is  no  turnpike  broad  enough,  or 
smooth  enough,  for  a  man  so  guilty  to  walk  in  without 
stumbling.  Every  step  proclaims  his  secret  to  every  pas 
senger.  His  own  acts  come  out,  to  fix  his  guilt.  In 
attempting  to  charge  another  with  his  own  crime,  he 
writes  his  own  confession.  To  do  away  the  effect  of 
Palmer's  letter,  signed  Grant,  he  writes  his  own  letter 
and  affixes  to  it  the  name  of  Grant.  He  writes  in  a  dis 
guised  hand ;  but  how  could  it  happen,  that  the  same 
G-rant  should  be  in  Salem,  that  was  at  Belfast?  This  has 
brought  the  whole  thing  out.  Evidently  he  did  it,  because 
he  has  adopted  the  same  style.  Evidently  he  did  it, 
because  he  speaks  of  the  price  of  blood,  and  of  other  cir- 


372  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

cumstances  connected  with  the  murder,  that  no  one  but  a 
conspirator  could  have  known. 

Palmer  says  he  made  a  visit  to  the  Crowninshields,  on 
the  9th  of  April.  George  then  asked  him  whether  he  had 
heard  of  the  murder.  Richard  inquired  whether  he  had 
heard  the  music  at  Salem.  They  said  that  they  were  sus 
pected,  that  a  committee  had  been  appointed  to  search 
houses ;  and  that  they  had  melted  up  the  dagger,  the  day 
after  the  murder,  because  it  would  be  a  suspicious  circum 
stance  to  have  found  it  in  their  possession.  Now,  this 
committee  was  not  appointed,  in  fact,  until  Friday  evening. 
But  this  proves  nothing  against  Palmer:  it  does  not  prove 
that  George  did  not  tell  him  so ;  it  only  proves  that  he 
gave  a  false  reason,  for  a  fact.  They  had  heard  that  they 
were  suspected — how  could  they  have  heard  this,  unless  it 
were  from  the  whisperings  of  their  own  consciences? 
Surely  this  rumor  was  not  then  public. 

About  the  27th  of  April,  another  attempt  is  made  by 
the  Knapps  to  give  a  direction  to  public  suspicion.  They 
reported  themselves  to  have  been  robbed,  in  passing  from 
Salem  to  Wenham,  near  Wenham  Pond.  They  came  to 
Salem,  and  stated  the  particulars  of  the  adventure:  they 
described  persons, — their  dress,  size,  and  appearance,  who 
had  been  suspected  of  the  murder.  They  would  have  it 
understood,  that  the  community  was  infested  with  a  band 
of  ruffians,  and  that  they,  themselves,  were  the  particular 
objects  of  their  vengeance.  Now,  this  turns  out  to  be  all 
fictitious, — all  false.  Can  you  conceive  of  any  thing  more 
enormous,  any  wickedness  greater,  than  the  circulation  of 
such  reports  ? — than  the  allegation  of  crimes,  if  committed, 
capital?  If  no  such  thing — then  it  reacts,  with  double 
force,  upon  themselves,  and  goes  very  far  to  show  their 
guilt.  How  did  they  conduct  on  this  occasion  ?  did  they 
make  hue  and  cry?  Did  they  give  information  that  they 


ON   THE    TRIAL    OF   J.  F.  KNAPP.  373 

had  been  assaulted,  that  night,  at  Wenham?  No  such 
thing.  They  rested  quietly  on  that  night ;  they  waited  to 
be  called  on  for  the  particulars  of  their  adventure ;  they 
made  no  attempt  to  arrest  the  offenders.  This  was  not 
their  object.  They  were  content  to  fill  the  thousand 
mouths  of  rumor — to  spread  abroad  false  reports — to 
divert  the  attention  of  the  public  from  themselves ;  for 
they  thought  every  man  suspected  them,  because  they 
knew  they  ought  to  be  suspected. 

The  manner  in  which  the  compensation  for  this  murder 
was  paid,  is  a  circumstance  worthy  of  consideration.  By 
examining  the  facts  and  dates,  it  will  satisfactorily  appear, 
that  Joseph  Knapp  paid  a  sum  of  money  to  Richard 
Crowninshield  in  five-franc  pieces,  on  the  24th  of  April. 
On  the  21st  of  April,  Joseph  Knapp  received  five  hundred 
five-franc  pieces,  as  the  proceeds  of  an  adventure  at  sea. 
The  remainder  of  this  species  of  currency  that  came  home 
in  the  vessel,  was  deposited  in  a  bank  at  Salem.  On 
Saturday,  24th  of  April,  Frank  and  Richard  rode  to 
Wenham.  They  were  there  with  Joseph  an  hour  or  more : 
appeared  to  be  negotiating  private  business.  Richard  con 
tinued  in  the  chaise :  Joseph  came  to  the  chaise  and  con 
versed  with  him.  These  facts  are  proved  by  Hart  and 
Leighton,  and  by  Osborn's  books.  On  Saturday  evening, 
about  this  time,  Richard  Crowninshield  is  proved  to  have 
been  at  Wenham,  with  another  person  whose  appearance 
corresponds  with  Frank,  by  Lummus.  Can  any  one  doubt 
this  being  the  same  evening  ?  What  had  Richard  Crownin 
shield  to  do  at  Wenham,  with  Joseph,  unless  it  were  this 
business  ?  He  was  there  before  the  murder ;  he  was  there 
after  the  murder ;  he  was  there  clandestinely,  unwilling  to 
be  seen.  If  it  were  not  upon  this  business,  let  it  be  told 
what  it  was  for.  Joseph  Knapp  could  explain  it ;  Frank 

32 


374  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

Knapp  might  explain  it.  But  they  don't  explain  it ;  and 
the  inference  is  against  them. 

Immediately  after  this,  Richard  passes  five-franc  pieces ; 
on  the  same  evening,  one  to  Lummus,  five  to  Palmer ;  and 
near  this  time,  George  passes  three  or  four  in  Salem.  Here 
are  nine  of  these  pieces  passed  by  them  in  four  days ;  this 
is  extraordinary.  It  is  an  unusual  currency  :  in  ordinary 
business,  few  men  would  pass  nine  such  pieces  in  the  course 
of  a  year.  If  they  were  not  received  in  this  way,  why  not 
explain  how  they  came  by  them  ?  Money  was  not  so  flush 
in  their  pockets,  that  they  could  not  tell  whence  it  came, 
if  it  honestly  came  there.  It  is  extremely  important  to 
them  to  explain  whence  this  money  came;  and  they  would 
do  it  if  they  could.  If,  then,  the  price  of  blood  was  paid 
at  this  time,  in  the  presence  and  with  the  knowledge  of 
this  defendant,  does  not  this  prove  him  to  have  been  con 
nected  with  this  conspiracy  ? 

Observe,  also,  the  effect  on  the  mind  of  Richard,  of 
Palmer's  being  arrested,  and  committed  to  prison ;  the 
various  efforts  he  makes  to  discover  the  fact ;  the  lowering, 
through  the  crevices  of  the  rock,  the  pencil  and  paper  for 
him  to  write  upon ;  the  sending  two  lines  of  poetry,  with 
the  request  that  he  would  return  the  corresponding  lines ; 
the  shrill  and  peculiar  whistle — the  inimitable  exclamations 
of  "Palmer!  Palmer!  Palmer!" — all  these  things  prove 
how  great  was  his  alarm ;  they  corroborate  Palmer's  story, 
and  tend  to  establish  the  conspiracy. 

Joseph  Knapp  had  a  part  to  act  in  this  matter ;  he  must 
have  opened  the  window,  and  secreted  the  key ;  he  had 
free  access  to  every  part  of  the  house ;  he  was  accustomed 
to  visit  there ;  he  went  in  and  out  at  his  pleasure ;  he 
could  do  this  without  being  suspected.  He  is  proved  to 
have  been  there  the  Saturday  preceding. 

If  all  these  things,  taken  in  connection,  do  not  prove 


ON  THE   TRIAL   OF  J.  F.  KNAPP,  375 

that  Captain  White  was  murdered  in  pursuance  of  a  con 
spiracy — then  the  case  is  at  an  end. 

Savary's  testimony  is  wholly  unexpected.  He  was  called 
for  a  different  purpose.  When  asked  who  the  person  was, 
that  he  saw  come  out  of  Captain  White's  yard  between  three 
and  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, — he  answered,  Frank 
JEZnapp.  I  am  not  clear  this  is  not  true.  There  may  be 
many  circumstances  of  importance  connected  with  this, 
though  we  believe  the  murder  to  have  been  committed 
between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock.  The  letter  to  Dr.  Barstow 
states  it  to  have  been  done  about  eleven  o'clock — it  states 
it  to  have  been  done  with  a  blow  on  the  head,  from  a 
weapon  loaded  with  lead.  Here  is  too  great  a  correspond 
ence  with  the  reality,  not  to  have  some  meaning  to  it.  Dr. 
Peirson  was  always  of  the  opinion  that  the  two  classes  of 
wounds  were  made  with  different  instruments,  and  by  dif 
ferent  hands.  It  is  possible  that  one  class  was  inflicted 
at  one  time,  and  the  other  at  another.  It  is  possible  that 
on  the  last  visit,  the  pulse  might  not  have  entirely  ceased 
to  beat;  and  then  the  finishing  stroke  was  given.  It  is 
said,  when  the  body  was  discovered,  some  of  the  wounds 
weeped,  while  the  others  did  not.  They  may  have  been  in 
flicted  from  mere  wantonness.  It  was  known  that  Captain 
White  was  accustomed  to  keep  specie  by  him  in  his  chamber ; 
this  perhaps  may  explain  the  last  visit.  It  is  proved,  that 
this  defendant  was  in  the  habit  of  retiring  to  bed,  and 
leaving  it  afterwards,  without  the  knowledge  of  his  family ; 
perhaps  he  did  so  on  this  occasion.  We  see  no  reason  to 
doubt  the  fact ;  and  it  does  not  shake  our  belief  that  the 
murder  was  committed  early  in  the  night. 

What  are  the  probabilities  as  to  the  time  of  the  murder  ? 
Mr.  White  was  an  aged  man ; — he  usually  retired  to  bed 
at  about  half-past  nine.  He  slept  soundest,  in  the  early 
part  of  the  night  j  usually  awoke  in  the  middle  arid  latter 


376  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

part ;  and  his  habits  were  perfectly  well  known.  When 
would  persons,  with  a  knowledge  of  these  facts,  be  most 
likely  to  approach  him  ?  Most  certainly,  in  the  first  hour 
of  his  sleep.  This  would  be  the  safest  time.  If  seen  then> 
going  to  or  from  the  house,  the  appearance  would  be  least, 
suspicious.  The  earlier  hour  would  then  have  been  most 
probably  selected. 

Gentlemen,  I  shall  dwell  no  longer  on  the  evidence  which 
tends  to  prove  that  there  was  a  conspiracy,  and  that  the 
prisoner  was  a  conspirator.  All  the  circumstances  concur 
to  make  out  this  point.  Not  only  Palmer  swears  to  it,  in 
effect,  and  Leighton,  but  Allen  mainly  supports  Palmer, 
and  Osborn's  books  lend  confirmation,  so  far  as  possible 
from  such  a  source.  Palmer  is  contradicted  in  nothing, 
either  by  any  other  witness,  or  any  proved  circumstance 
or  occurrence.  Whatever  could  be  expected  to  support 
him,  does  support  him.  All  the  evidence  clearly  manifests, 
I  think,  that  there  was  a  conspiracy;  that  it  originated 
with  J.  Knapp ;  that  defendant  became  a  party  to  it,  and 
was  one  of  its  conductors,  from  first  to  last.  One  of  the 
most  powerful  circumstances,  is  Palmer's  letter  from  Bel 
fast.  The  amount  of  this  was,  a  direct  charge  on  the 
Knapps,  of  the  authorship  of  this  murder.  How  did  they 
treat  this  charge  ?  like  honest  men,  or  like  guilty  men  ? 
We  have  seen  how  it  was  treated.  J.  Knapp  fabricated 
letters,  charging  another  person,  and  caused  them  to  be 
put  into  the  post-office. 

I  shall  now  proceed  on  the  supposition,  that  it  is  proved 
that  there  was  a  conspiracy  to  murder  Mr.  White,  and 
that  the  prisoner  was  party  to  it. 

The  second,  and  the  material  inquiry  is,  was  the  prisoner 
present  at  the  murder,  aiding  and  abetting  therein  ? 

This  leads  to  the  legal  question  in  the  case,  what  does 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         377 

the  law  mean.,  when  it  says,  to  charge  him  as  a  principal, 
"  he  must  be  present  aiding  and  abetting  in  the  murder"  ? 

In  the  language  of  the  late  chief-justice,  "it  is  not 
required  that  the  abettor  shall  be  actually  upon  the  spot 
when  the  murder  is  committed,  or  even  in  sight  of  the 
more  immediate  perpetrator  of  the  victim,  to  make  him  a 
principal.  If  he  be  at  a  distance,  co-operating  in  the  act, 
by  watching  to  prevent  relief,  or  to  give  an  alarm,  or  to 
assist  his  confederate  in  escape,  having  knowledge  of  the 
l^urpose  and  object  of  the  assassin, — this  in  the  eye  of  the 
law  is  being  present,  aiding  and  abetting,  so  as  to  make 
him  a  principal  in  the  murder." 

"If  he  be  at  a  distance  co-operating."  This  is  not  a 
distance  to  be  measured  by  feet  or  rods ;  if  the  intent  to 
lend  aid  combine  with  a  knowledge  that  the  murder  is  to 
be  committed,  and  the  person  so  intending  be  so  situate 
that  he  can  by  any  possibility  lend  this  aid,  in  any  man 
ner,  then  he  is  present  in  legal  contemplation.  He  need 
not  lend  any  actual  aid :  to  be  ready  to  assist  is  assisting. 

There  are  two  sorts  of  murder ;  the  distinction  between 
them  it  is  of  essential  importance  to  bear  in  mind. 
1.  Murder  in  an  affray,  or  upon  sudden  and  unexpected 
provocation ;  2.  Murder  secretly,  with  a  deliberate,  pre- 
determinate  intention  to  commit  murder.  Under  the  first 
class,  the  question  usually  is  whether  the  offence  be  mur 
der  or  manslaughter,  in  the  person  who  commits  the  deed. 
Under  the  second  class,  it  is  often  a  question  whether 
others  than  he  who  actually  did  the  deed,  were  present 
aiding  and  assisting  thereto.  Offences  of  this  kind  ordi 
narily  happen  when  there  is  nobody  present  except  those 
who  go  on  the  same  design.  If  a  riot  should  happen  in 
the  court-house,  and  one  should  kill  another — this  may  be 
murder  or  it  may  not,  according  to  the  intention  with 
which  it  was  done,  which  is  always  matter  of  fact  to  be 

32* 


378         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

collected  from  the  circumstances  at  the  time.  But  in 
secret  murders,  premeditated  and  determined  on,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  of  the  murderous  intention;  there  can  be 
no  doubt,  if  a  person  be  present,  knowing  a  murder  is  to 
be  done,  of  his  concurring  in  the  act.  His  being  there  is 
a  proof  of  his  intent  to  aid  and  abet ;  else  why  is  he 
there  ? 

It  has  been  contended  that  proof  must  be  given  that  the 
person  accused  did  actually  afford  aid,  did  lend  a  hand  in 
the  murder  itself;  and  without  this  proof,  although  he  may 
be  near  by,  he  may  be  presumed  to  be  there  for  an  inno 
cent  purpose ;  he  may  have  crept  silently  there  to  hear 
the  news,  or  from  mere  curiosity  to  see  what  was  going 
on.  Preposterous!  —  absurd!  Such  an  idea  shocks  all 
common  sense.  A  man  is  found  to  be  a  conspirator  to  do 
a  murder ;  he  has  planned  it ;  he  has  assisted  in  arranging 
the  time,  the  place,  and  the  means  ;  and  he  is  found  in  the 
place,  and  at  the  time,  and  yet  it  is  suggested  that  he 
might  have  been  there,  not  for  co-operation  and  concur 
rence,  but  from  curiosity !  Such  an  argument  deserves  no 
answer.  It  would  be  difficult  to  give  it  one,  in  decorous 
terms.  Is  it  not  to  be  taken  for  granted  that  a  man  seeks 
to  accomplish  his  own  purposes  ?  When  he  has  planned  a 
murder,  and  is  present  at  its  execution,  is  he  there  to  for 
ward,  or  to  thwart,  his  own  design?  Is  he  there  to  assist, 
or  there  to  prevent?  But  " curiosity!"  He  may  be 
there  from  mere  "curiosity!"  Curiosity  to  witness  the 
success  of  the  execution  of  his  own  plan  of  murder !  The 
very  walls  of  a  court-house  ought  not  to  stand — the 
plough-share  should  run  through  the  ground  it  stands  on — 
where  such  an  argument  could  find  toleration. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  the  abettor  should  actually  lend 
a  hand — that  he  should  take  a  part  in  the  act  itself;  if  he 
be  present,  ready  to  assist — that  is  assisting.  Some  of  the 


ON   THE   TRIAL    OF   J.  F.  KNAPP.  379 

doctrines  advanced  would  acquit  the  defendant  though  he 
had  gone  to  the  bed-chamber  of  the  deceased — though  he 
had  been  standing  by  when  the  assassin  gave  the  blow- 
This  is  the  argument  we  have  heard  to-day.     [The  court 
here  said  they  did  not  so  understand  the  argument  of  the 
counsel  for  defendant.     Mr.  Dexter  said,  "  the  intent  and 
power  alone  must  co-operate."     Mr.  Webster  continued :] 
No  doubt  the  law  is  that  being  ready  to  assist  is  assisting, 
if  he  has  the  power  to  assist,  in  case  of  need.     And  it  if 
so  stated  by  Foster,  who  is  a  high  authority.     "  If  A.  hap 
peneth  to  be  present  at  a  murder,  for  instance,  and  taketl 
no  part  in  it,  nor  endeavoreth  to  prevent  it,  nor  appro 
herideth  the  murderer,  nor  levyeth  hue  and  cry  after  him 
this  strange  behavior  of  his,  though  highly  criminal,  wil 
not  of  itself  render  him   either  principal  or  accessory.' 
"  But  if  a  fact  amounting  to  murder  should  be  committed 
in  prosecution  of  some  unlawful  purpose,  though  it  wers 
but  a  bare  trespass,  to  which  A.,  in  the  case  last  stated 
had  consented,  and  he  had  gone  in  order  to  give  assistance, 
if  need  were,  for  carrying  it  into  execution — this  wroulc? 
have   amounted  to   murder  in  him,  arid   in   every  person 
present  and  joining  with  him."     "If  the  fact  was  com 
mitted  in  prosecution  of  the  original  purpose,  which  was 
unlawful,  the  whole  party  will  be  involved  in  the  guilt  of 
him   who   gave    the   blow.     For,  in   combinations  of  this 
kind,  the  mortal  stroke,  though  given  by  one  of  the  party, 
is  considered,  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  and  of  sound  reason 
too,  as   given  by  every  individual  present  and   abetting. 
The  person  actually  giving  the  stroke  is  no  more  than  the 
hand   or   instrument  by  which   the   others   strike."     The 
author,  in  speaking  of  being  present,  means  actual  pre 
sence  ;   not   actual  in   opposition   to   constructive,  for  the 
law  knows  no  such  distinction.     There  is  but  one  presence, 
and  this  is  the  situation  from  which  aid,  or  supposed  aid 


380         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

may  be  rendered.  The  law  does  not  say  where  he  is  to 
go,  or  how  near  he  is  to  go,  but  somewhere  where  he  may 
give  assistance,  or  where  the  perpetrator  may  suppose  that 
he  may  be  assisted  by  him.  Suppose  that  he  is  acquainted 
with  the  design  of  the  murderer,  and  has  a  knowledge  of 
the  time  when  it  is  to  be  carried  into  effect,  and  goes  out 
with  a  view  to  render  assistance,  if  need  be :  why,  then, 
even  though  the  murderer  does  not  know  of  this,  the  per 
son  so  going  out  will  be  an  abettor  in  the  murder.  It  is 
contended  that  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  could  not  be  a  prin 
cipal,  he  being  in  Brown  Street;  because  he  could  not 
there  render  assistance.  And  you  are  called  upon  to 
determine  this  case  according  as  you  may  be  of  opinion 
whether  Brown  Street  was,  or  was  not,  a  suitable,  conve 
nient,  well-chosen  place  to  aid  in  this  murder.  This  is 
not  the  true  question.  The  inquiry  is,  not  whether  you 
would  have  selected  this  place  in  preference  to  all  others, 
or  whether  you  would  have  selected  it  at  all ;  if  they 
chose  it,  why  should  we  doubt  about  it?  How  do  we 
know  the  use  they  intended  to  make  of  it,  or  the  kind  of 
aid  that  he  was  to  afford  by  being  there?  The  question 
for  you  to  consider  is,  did  the  defendant  go  into  Brown 
Street  in  aid  of  this  murder?  Did  he  go  there  by  agree 
ment,  by  appointment,  with  the  perpetrator?  If  so, 
every  thing  else  follows.  The  main  thing — indeed,  the 
only  thing — is  to  inquire  whether  he  was  in  Brown  Street 
by  appointment  with  Richard  Crownirishield ;  it  might  be 
to  keep  general  w^atch ;  to  observe  the  lights,  and  advise 
as  to  time  of  access ;  to  meet  the  prisoner  on  his  return ; 
to  advise  him  as  to  his  escape ;  to  examine  his  clothes ;  to 
see  if  any  marks  of  blood ;  to  furnish  exchange  of  clothes, 
or  new  disguise,  if  necessary ;  to  tell  him  through  what 
streets  he  could  safely  retreat,  or  whether  he  could  deposit 
'•Jie  club  in  the  place  designed : — or  it  might  be  without 


ON  THE   TRIAL   OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.  2    i 

any  distinct  object,  but  merely  to  afford  that  encourage 
ment  which  would  be  afforded  by  Richard  Crowninshield's 
consciousness  that  he  was  near.  It  is  of  no  consequence 
whether,  in  your  opinion,  the  place  was  well  chosen  or  not, 
to  afford  aid ; — if  it  was  so  chosen,  if  it  was  by  appoint 
ment  that  he  was  there,  that  is  enough.  Suppose  Richard 
Crownmshield,  when  applied  to  to  commit  the  murder,  had 
said,  "I  won't  do  it  unless  there  can  be  some  one  near  by 
to  favor  my  escape.  I  won't  go  unless  you  will  stay  in 
Brown  Street."  Upon  the  gentleman's  argument,  he 
would  not  be  an  aider  and  abettor  in  the  murder,  because 
the  place  was  not  well  chosen ;  though  it  is  apparent  that 
the  being  in  the  place  chosen  was  a  condition  without 
which  the  murder  would  have  never  happened. 

You  are  to  consider  the  defendant  as  one  in  the  league, 
in  the  combination  to  commit  murder.  If  he  was  there  by 
appointment  with  the  perpetrator,  he  is  an  abettor.  The 
concurrence  of  the  perpetrator  in  his  being  there,  is  proved 
by  the  previous  evidence  of  the  conspiracy.  If  Richard 
Crowninshield,  for  any  purpose  whatsoever,  made  it  a  con 
dition  of  the  agreement,  that  Frank  Knapp  should  stand 
as  backer,  then  Frank  Knapp  was  an  aider  and  abettor : 
no  matter  what  the  aid  was,  of  what  sort  it  was,  or  degree 
— be  it  never  so  little.  Even  if  it  were  to  judge  of  the 
hour,  when  it  was  best  to  go,  or  to  see  when  the  lights 
were  extinguished,  or  to  give  an  alarm  if  any  one  ap 
proached.  Who  better  calculated  to  judge  of  these  things 
than  the  murderer  himself?  and  if  he  so  determined  them, 
that  is  sufficient. 

Now  as  to  the  facts.  Frank  Knapp  knew  that  the  murder 
was  that  night  to  be  committed ;  he  was  one  of  the  con 
spirators,  he  knew  the  object,  he  knew  the  time.  He  had 
that  day  been  to  Wenham  to  see  Joseph,  and  probably  to 
Danvers  to  see  Richard  Crownmshield,  for  he  kept  his 


882         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

motions  secret ;  he  had  that  day  hired  a  horse  and  chaise 
of  Osborn,  and  attempted  to  conceal  the  purpose  for  which 
it  was  used, — he  had  intentionally  left  the  place  and  the 
price  blank  on  Osborn's  books.  He  went  to  Wenham  by 
the  way  of  Danvers :  he  had  been  told  the  week  before,  to 
hasten  Dick ;  he  had  seen  the  Crowninshields  several  times 
within  a  few  days ;  he  had  a  saddle-horse  the  Saturday 
night  before ;  he  had  seen  Mrs.  Beckford  at  Wenham,  and 
knew  she  would  not  return  that  night.  She  had  not  been 
away 'before  for  six  weeks,  and  probably  would  not  soon  be 
again.  He  had  just  come  from  there.  Every  day,  for  the 
week  previous,  he  had  visited  one  or  other  of  these  con 
spirators,  save  Sunday,  and  then  probably  he  saw  them  in 
town.  When  he  saw  Joseph  on  the  6th,  Joseph  had  pre 
pared  the  house,  and  would  naturally  tell  him  of  it ;  there 
were  constant  communications  between  them,  daily  and 
nightly  visitation ; — too  much  knowledge  of  these  parties 
and  this  transaction,  to  leave  a  particle  of  doubt  on  the 
mind  of  any  one,  that  Frank  Knapp  knew  that  the  murder 
was  to  be  done  this  night.  The  hour  was  come,  and  he 
knew  it ;  if  so,  and  he  was  in  Brown  Street,  without  ex 
plaining  why  he  was  there,  can  the  jury  for  a  moment 
doubt,  whether  he  was  there  to  countenance,  aid  or  sup 
port  ;  or  for  curiosity  alone ;  or  to  learn  how  the  wages 
of  sin  and  death  were  earned  by  the  perpetrator  ? 

[Here  Mr.  Webster  read  the  law  from  Hawkins.  1  Hawk. 
204,  lib.  1,  chap.  32,  sec.  7.] 

The  perpetrator  would  derive  courage,  and  strength,  and 
confidence,  from  the  knowledge  of  the  fact  that  one  of  his 
associates  was  near  by.  If  he  was  in  Brown  Street,  he 
could  have  been  there  for  no  other  purpose.  If  there  for 
this  purpose,  then  he  was,  in  the  language  of  the  law, 
present,  aiding  and  abetting  in  the  murder. 

His  interest  lay  in  being  somewhere  else.     If  he  had 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         383 

nothing  to  do  with  the  murder,  no  part  to  act,  why  not 
stay  at  home?  Why  should  he  jeopard  his  own  life,  if  it 
was  not  agreed  that  he  should  be  there  ?  He  would  not 
voluntarily  go  where  the  very  place  would  probably  cause 
him  to  swing  if  detected.  He  would  not  voluntarily  as 
sume  the  place  of  danger.  His  taking  this  place,  proves 
that  he  went  to  give  aid.  His  staying  away  would  have 
made  an  alibi.  If  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  murder, 
he  would  be  at  home,  where  he  could  prove  his  alibi.  He 
knew  he  was  in  danger,  because  he  was  guilty  of  the  con 
spiracy,  and,  if  he  had  nothing  to  do,  would  not  expose 
himself  to  suspicion  or  detection. 

Did  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  countenance  this  murder  ? 
Did  he  concur,  or  did  he  non-concur,  in  what  the  perpe 
trator  was  about  to  do  ?  Would  he  have  tried  to  shield 
him  ?  Would  he  have  furnished  his  cloak  for  protection  ? 
Would  he  have  pointed  out  a  safe  way  of  retreat  ?  As  you 
would  answer  these  questions,  so  you  should  answer  the 
general  question — whether  he  was  there  consenting  to  the 
murder,  or  whether  he  was  there  a  spectator  only. 

One  word  more  on  this  presence,  called  constructive  pre 
sence.  What  aid  is  to  be  rendered  ?  Where  is  the  line  to 
be  drawn,  between  acting,  and  omitting  to  act  ?  Suppose 
he  had  been  in  the  house,  suppose  he  had  followed  the 
perpetrator  to  the  chamber:  what  could  he  have  done? 
This  was  to  be  a  murder  by  stealth,  it  was  to  be  a  secret 
assassination.  It  was  not  their  purpose  to  have  an  open 
combat;  they  were  to  approach  their  victim  unawares,  and 
silently  give  the  fatal  blow.  But  if  he  had  been  in  the 
chamber,  no  one  can  doubt  that  he  would  have  been  an 
abettor;  because  of  his  presence,  and  ability  to  render 
services,  if  needed.  What  service  could  he  have  rendered, 
if  there  ?  Could  he  have  helped  him  fly  ?  Could  he  have 
aided  the  silence  of  his  movements?  Could  he  have 


384  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

facilitated  his  retreat,  on  the  first  alarm  ?  Surely,  this  was 
a  case,  where  there  was  more  of  safety  in  going  alone,  than 
with  another  ;  where  company  would  only  embarrass. 
Richard  Crowninshield  would  prefer  to  go  alone.  He  knew 
his  errand  too  well.  His  nerves  needed  no  collateral  sup 
port.  He  was  not  the  man  to  take  with  him  a  trembling 
companion.  He  would  prefer  to  have  his  aid  at  a  distance. 
He  would  not  wish  to  be  embarrassed  by  his  presence. 
He  would  prefer  to  have  him  out  of  the  house.  He  would 
prefer  that  he  should  be  in  Brown  Street.  But,  whether 
in  the  chamber,  in  the  house,  in  the  garden,  or  in  the 
street,  whatsoever  is  aiding  in  immediate  presence  is  aid 
ing  in  constructive  presence — any  thing  that  is  aid  in  one 
case  is  aid  in  the  other. 

[Reads  from  Hawkins.  4  Hawk.  201,  lib.  iv.  chap.  29, 
sec.  8.] 

If  then  the  aid  be  anywhere,  that  emboldens  the  per 
petrator — that  affords  him  hope  or  confidence  in  his  en 
terprise  :  it  is  the  same  as  though  he  stood  at  his  elbow 
with  his  sword  drawn :  his  being  there  ready  to  act,  with 
the  power  to  act,  that  is  what  makes  him  an  abettor. 
[Here  Mr.  Webster  referred  to  Kelly's  case,  and  Hyde's 
case,  &c.,  cited  by  counsel  for  the  defendant,  and  showed 
that  they  did  not  militate  with  the  doctrine  for  which  he 
contended.  The  difference  is,  in  those  cases  there  was 
open  violence,  this  was  a  case  of  secret  assassination.  The 
aid  must  meet  the  occasion.  Here  no  acting  was  necessary, 
but  watching,  concealment  of  escape,  management.] 

What  are  the  facts  in  relation  to  this  presence  ?  Frank 
Knapp  is  proved  a  conspirator — proved  to  have  known 
that  the  deed  was  now  to  be  done.  Is  it  not  probable 
that  he  was  in  Brown  Street  to  concur  in  the  murder  ? 
There  were  four  conspirators ;  it  was  natural  that  some 
one  of  them  would  go  with  the  perpetrator.  Richard 


ON   THE   TRIAL    OF   J.  F.  KNAPP.  385 

Crowninshield  was  to  be  the  perpetrator ;  he  was  to  give 
the  blow.  No  evidence  of  any  easting  of  the  parts  for 
the  others.  The  defendant  would  probably  be  the  man 
to  take  the  second  part.  He  was  fond  of  exploits — he 
was  accustomed  to  the  use  of  sword-canes,  and  dirks.  If 
any  aid  was  required,  he  was  the  man  to  give  it.  At 
least  there  is  no  evidence  to  the  contrary  of  this. 

Aid  could  not  have  been  received  from  Joseph  Knapp, 
or  from  George  Crowninshield.  Joseph  Knapp  was  at 
Wenham,  and  took  good  care  to  prove  that  he  was  there. 
George  Crowninshield  has  proved  satisfactorily  where  he 
was ;  that  he  was  in  other  company,  such  as  it  was,  until 
eleven  o'clock.  This  narrows  the  inquiry.  This  demands  of 
the  prisoner  to  show,  that  if  he  was  not  in  this  place, 
where  he  was  ?  It  calls  on  him  loudly  to  show  this,  and 
to  show  it  truly.  If  he  could  show  it,  he  would  do  it. 
If  he  don't  tell,  and  that  truly,  it  is  against  him.  The 
defence  of  an  alibi  is  a  double-edged  sword.  He  knew 
that  he  was  in  a  situation,  that  he  might  be  called  upon  to 
account  for  himself.  If  he  had  had  no  particular  ap 
pointment,  or  business  to  attend  to,  he  would  have  taken 
care  to  have  been  able  so  to  have  accounted.  He  would 
have  been  out  of  town,  or  in  some  good  company.  Has  he 
accounted  for  himself  on  that  night,  to  your  satisfaction  ? 

The  prisoner  has  attempted  to  prove  an  alibi,  in  two 
ways.  In  the  first  place,  by  four  young  men  with  whom 
he  says  he  was  in  company  on  the  evening  of  the  murder, 
from  seven  o'clock,  till  near  ten  o'clock;  this  depends 
upon  the  certainty  of  the  night.  In  the  second  place,  by 
his  family,  from  ten  o'clock  afterward ;  this  depends  upon 
the  certainty  of  the  time  of  night.  These  two  classes 
of  proof  have  no  connection  with  each  other.  One  may 
be  true,  and  the  other  false,  or  they  may  both  be  true,  or 
both  be  false.  I  shall  examine  this  testimony  with  some 

33 


386         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTEB. 

attention,  because  on  a  former  trial,  it  made  more  impres 
sion  on  the  minds  of  the  court,  than  on  my  own  mind.  1 
think,  when  carefully  sifted  and  compared,  it  will  be  found 
to  have  in  it  more  of  plausibility  than  reality. 

Mr.  Page  testifies,  that  on  the  evening  of  the  6th  of 
April,  he  was  in  company  with  Burchmore,  Balch,  and 
Forrester,  and  that  he  met  the  defendant  about  seven 
o'clock,  near  the  Salem  hotel ;  that  he  afterward  met 
him  at  Remond's,  about  nine  o'clock,  and  that  he  was  in 
company  with  him  a  considerable  part  of  the  evening. 
This  young  gentleman  is  a  member  of  college,  and  says 
that  he  came  in  town  the  Saturday  evening  previous ;  that 
he  is  now  able  to  say  that  it  was  the  night  of  the  murder, 
when  he  walked  with  Frank  Knapp,  from  a  recollection 
of  the  fact  that  he  called  himself  to  an  account,  on  the 
morning  after  the  murder,  as  was  natural  for  men  to  do 
when  an  extraordinary  occurrence  happens.  Gentlemen, 
this  kind  of  evidence  is  not  satisfactory ;  general  impres 
sions  as  to  time  are  not  to  be  relied  on.  If  I  were  called 
upon  to  state  the  particular  day  on  which  any  witness 
testified  in  this  cause,  I  could  not  do  it.  Every  man  will 
notice  the  same  thing  in  his  own  mind.  There  is  no  one 
of  these  young  men  that  could  give  any  account  of  him 
self  for  any  other  day  in  the  month  of  April.  They  are 
made  to  remember  the  fact,  and  then  they  think  they  re 
member  the  time.  He  has  no  means  of  knowing  it  was 
Tuesday  .more  than  any  other  time.  He  did  not  know  it 
at  first,  he  could  not  know  it  afterward.  He  says  he 
called  himself  to  an  account ;  this  has  no  more  to  do  with 
the  murder  than  with  the  man  in  the  moon.  Such  testimony 
is  not  worthy  to  be  relied  on,  in  any  forty-shilling  cause. 
What  occasion  had  he  to  call  himself  to  an  account  ?  Did 
he  suppose,  that  he  should  be  suspected  ?  Had  he  any 
intimation  of  this  conspiracy  ? 


ON   THE   TRIAL   OF   J.  F.  KNAPP.  387 

Suppose,  gentlemen,  you  were  either  of  you  asked, 
where  you  were,  or  what  you  were  doing,  on  the  15th  day 
of  June :  you  could  not  answer  this  question,  without 
calling  to  mind  some  events  to  make  it  certain.  Just  as 
well  may  you  remember  on  what  you  dined  on  each  day 
of  the  year  past.  Time  is  identical.  Its  subdivisions 
are  all  alike.  No  man  knows  one  day  from  another,  or 
one  hour  from  another,  but  by  some  fact  connected  with  it. 
Days  and  hours  are  not  visible  to  the  senses,  nor  to  be 
apprehended  and  distinguished  by  the  understanding. 
The  flow  of  time  is  known  only  by  something  which  makes 
it ;  and  he  who  speaks  of  the  date  of  occurrences  with 
nothing  to  guide  his  recollection,  speaks  at  random,  and 
is  not  to  be  relied  on.  This  young  gentleman  remembers 
the  facts,  and  occurrences — he  knows  nothing  why  they 
should  not  have  happened  on  the  evening  of  the  6th ; 
but  he  knows  no  more.  All  the  rest  is  evidently  conjec 
ture  or  impression. 

Mr.  White  informs  you  that  he  told  him  he  could  not 
tell  what  night  it  was.  The  first  thoughts  are  all  that  are 
valuable  in  such  case.  They  miss  the  mark  by  taking 
second  aim. 

Mr.  Balch  believes,  but  is  not  sure,  that  he  was  with 
Frank  Knapp  on  the  evening  of  the  murder.  He  has 
given  different  accounts  of  the  time.  He  has  no  means  of 
making  it  certain.  All  he  knows  is,  that  it  was  some 
evening  before  Fast.  But  whether  Monday,  Tuesday,  or 
Saturday,  he  cannot  tell. 

Mr.  Burchmore  says,  to  the  best  of  his  belief,  it  was  the 
evening  of  the  murder.  Afterward  he  attempts  to  speak 
positively,  from  recollecting  that  he  mentioned  the  circum 
stance  to  William  Peirce,  as  he  went  to  the  Mineral  Spring 
on  Fast-day.  Last  Monday  morning,  he  told  Colonel  Put 
nam  he  could  not  fix  the  time,  This  witness  stands  in  a 


388  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

much  worse  plight  than  either  of  the  others.  It  is  difficult 
to  reconcile  all  he  has  said,  with  any  belief  in  the  accuracy 
of  his  recollections. 

Mr.  Forrester  does  not  speak  with  any  certainty  as  to 
the  night ;  and  it  is  very  certain,  that  he  told  Mr.  Loring 
and  others,  that  he  did  not  know  what  night  it  was. 

Now,  what  does  the  testimony  of  these  four  young  men 
amount  to  ?  The  only  circumstance,  by  which  they  ap 
proximate  to  an  identifying  of  the  night,  is,  that  three  of 
them  say  it  was  cloudy  ;  they  think  their  walk  was  either 
on  Monday  or  Tuesday  evening,  and  it  is  admitted  that 
Monday  evening  was  clear,  whence  they  draw  the  inference 
that  it  must  have  been  Tuesday. 

But,  fortunately,  there  is  one  fact  disclosed  in  their 
testimony  that  settles  the  question.  Baleh  says,  that  on 
the  evening,  whenever  it  was,  that  he  saw  the  prisoner, 
the  prisoner  told  him  he  was  going  out  of  town  on  horse 
back,  for  a  distance  of  about  twenty  minutes'  ride,  and 
that  he  was  going  to  get  a  horse  at  Osborn's.  This  was 
about  seven  o'clock.  At  about  nine,  Balch  says  he  saw 
the  prisoner  again,  and  was  then  told  by  him,  that  he  had 
had  his  ride,  and  had  returned.  Now  it  appears  by 
Osborn's  books,  that  the  prisoner  had  a  saddle-horse  from 
his  stable,  not  on  Tuesday  evening,  the  night  of  the  murder, 
but  on  the  Saturday  evening  previous.  This  fixes  the 
time,  about  which  these  young  men  testify,  and  is  a  com 
plete  answer  and  refutation  of  the  attempted  alibi,  on 
Tuesday  evening. 

I  come  now  to  speak  of  the  testimony  adduced  by  the 
defendant  to  explain  where  he  was  after  ten  o'clock  on  the 
night  of  the  murder.  This  comes  chiefly  from  members 
of  the  family ;  from  his  father  and  brothers. 

It  is  agreed  that  the  affidavit  of  the  prisoner  should  be 
received  as  evidence  of  what  his  brother,  Samuel  H.  Knapp, 


ON   THE   TRIAL    OF   J.  F.  KNAPP.  89 

would  testify,  if  present.  S.  H.  Knapp  says,  that  about 
ten  minutes  past  ten  o'clock,  his  brother  F.  Knapp,  on  his 
way  to  bed,  opened  his  chamber-door,  made  some  remarks, 
closed  the  door,  and  went  to  his  chamber ;  and  that  he  did 
not  hear  him  leave  it  afterward.  How  is  this  witness  able 
to  fix  the  time  at  ten  minutes  past  ten  ?  There  is  no  cir 
cumstance  mentioned,  by  which  he  fixes  it.  He  had  been 
in  bed,  probably  asleep,  and  was  aroused  from  his  sleep, 
by  the  opening  of  the  door.  Was  he  in  a  situation  to  speak 
of  time  with  precision  ?  Could  he  know,  under  such  cir 
cumstances,  whether  it  was  ten  minutes  past  ten,  or  ten 
minutes  before  eleven,  when  his  brother  spoke  to  him  ? 
What  would  be  the  natural  result,  in  such  a  case  ?  But 
we  are  not  left  to  conjecture  this  result.  We  have  positive 
testimony  on  this  point.  Mr.  Webb  tells  you  that  Samuel 
told  him  on  the  8th  of  June,  "  that  he  did  not  know  what 
time  his  brother  Frank  came  home,  and  that  he  was  not  at 
home  when  Tie  went  to  bed."  You  will  consider  this  tes 
timony  of  Mr.  Webb,  as  endorsed  upon  this  affidavit ;  and 
with  this  endorsement  upon  it,  you  will  give  it  its  due 
weight.  This  statement  was  made  to  him  after  Frank  was 
arrested. 

I  come  to  the  testimony  of  the  father.  I  find  myself 
incapable  of  speaking  of  him  or  his  testimony  with  severity. 
Unfortunate  old  man !  Another  Lear,  in  the  conduct  of 
his  children ;  another  Lear,  I  fear,  in  the  effect  of  his  dis 
tress  upon  his  mind  and  understanding.  He  is  brought 
here  to  testify,  under  circumstances  that  disarm  severity, 
and  call  loudly  for  sympathy.  Though  it  is  impossible  not 
to  see  that  his  story  cannot  be  credited,  yet  I  am  not  able 
to  speak  of  him  otherwise  than  in  sorrow  and  grief.  Un 
happy  father  !  he  strives  to  remember,  perhaps  persuades 
himself  that  he  does  remember,  that  on  the  evening  of  the 
murder  he  was  himself  at  home  at  ten  o'clock.  He  thinks, 


390  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

or  seems  to  think,  that  his  son  came  in,  at  about  five 
minutes  past  ten.  He  fancies  that  he  remembers  his  con 
versation  ;  he  thinks  he  spoke  of  bolting  the  door ;  he 
thinks  he  asked  the  time  of  night ;  he  seems  to  remember 
his  then  going  to  his  bed.  Alas  !  these  are  but  the  swim 
ming  fancies  of  an  agitated  and  distressed  mind.  Alas  ! 
they  are  but  the  dreams  of  hope, — its  uncertain  lights 
flickering  on  the  thick  darkness  of  parental  distress.  Alas ! 
the  miserable  father  knows  nothing,  in  reality,  of  all  these 
things. 

Mr.  Shepard  says  that  the  first  conversation  he  had  with 
Mr.  Knapp,  was  soon  after  the  murder,  and  before  the 
arrest  of  his  sons.  Mr.  Knapp  says  it  was  after  the  arrest 
of  his  sons.  His  own  fears  led  him  to  say  to  Mr.  Shepard, 
that  his  "  son  Frank  was  at  home  that  night ;  and  so 
Phippen  told  him, — or  as  Phippen  told  him."  Mr.  Shepard 
says  that  he  was  struck  with  the  remark  at  the  time,  that 
it  made  an  unfavorable  impression  on  his  mind ;  he  does 
not  tell  you  what  that  impression  was,  but  when  you  con 
nect  it  with  the  previous  inquiry  he  had  made, — whether 
Frank  had  continued  to  associate  with  the  Crowninshields  ? 
— and  recollect  that  the  Crowninshields  were  then  known 
to  be  suspected  of  this  crime,  can  you  doubt  what  this  im 
pression  was  ?  can  you  doubt  as  to  the  fears  he  then  had  ? 

This  poor  old  man  tells  you  that  he  was  greatly  perplexed 
at  the  time,  that  he  found  himself  in  embarrassed  circum 
stances  ;  that  on  this  very  night  he  was  engaged  in  making 
an  assignment  of  his  property  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Shepard. 
If  ever  charity  should  furnish  a  mantle  for  error,  it  should 
be  here.  Imagination  cannot  picture  a  more  deplorable, 
distressed  condition. 

The  same  general  remarks  may  be  applied  to  his  con 
versation  with  Mr.  Treadwell,  as  have  been  made  upon 
that  with  Mr.  Shepard.  He  told  him  that  he  believed 


ON  THE  TEIAL   OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.  391 

Frank  was  at  home  about  the  usual  time.  In  his  con 
versations  with  either  of  these  persons,  he  did  not  pretend 
to  know,  of  his  own  knowledge,  the  time  that  he  came 
home.  He  now  tells  you,  positively,  that  he  recollects 
the  time,  and  that  he  so  told  Mr.  Shepard.  He  is  directly 
contradicted  by  both  these  witnesses,  as  respectable  men 
as  Salem  aifords. 

This  idea  of  alibi,  is  of  recent  origin.  Would  Samuel 
Knapp  have  gone  to  sea,  if  it  were  then  thought  of? 
His  testimony,  if  true,  was  too  important  to  be  lost.  If 
there  be  any  truth  in  this  part  of  the  alibi,  it  is  so  near  in 
point  of  time,  that  it  cannot  be  relied  on.  The  mere 
variation  of  half  an  hour  would  avoid  it.  The  mere 
variations  of  different  time-pieces  would  explain  it. 

Has  the  defendant  proved  where  he  was  on  that  night  ? 
If  you  doubt  about  it — there  is  an  end. of  it.  The  burden 
is  upon  him,  to  satisfy  you  beyond  all  reasonable  doubt. 
Osborn's  books,  in  connection  with  what  the  young  men 
state,  are  conclusive,  I  think,  on  this  point.  He  has  not, 
then,  accounted  for  himself — he  has  attempted  it,  and  has 
failed.  I  pray  you  to  remember,  gentlemen,  that  this  is 
a  case,  in  which  the  prisoner  would,  more  than  any  other, 
be  rationally  able  to  account  for  himself,  on  the  night  of 
the  murder,  if  he  could  do  so.  He  was  in  the  conspiracy, 
he  knew  the  murder  was  then  to  be  committed,  and  if  he 
himself  was  to  have  no  hand  in  its  actual  execution,  he 
would  of  course,  as  matter  of  safety  and  precaution,  be 
somewhere  else,  and  be  able  to  prove,  afterward,  that  he 
had  been  somewhere  else.  Having  this  motive  to  prove 
himself  elsewhere,  and  the  power  to  do  it,  if  he  were  else 
where,  his  failing  in  such  proof  must  necessarily  leave  a 
very  strong  inference  against  him. 

But,  gentlemen,  let  us  now  consider  what  is  the  evidence 
produced  on  the  part  of  the  Government  to  prove  that 


392         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

John  Francis  Knapp,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  was  in 
Brown  Street  on  the  night  of  the  murder.  This  is  a  point 
of  vital  importance  in  this  cause.  Unless  this  be  made 
out,  beyond  reasonable  doubt,  the  law  of  presence  does 
not  apply  to  the  case.  The  Government  undertake  to 
prove  that  he  was  present,  aiding  in  the  murder,  by  prov 
ing  that  he  was  in  Brown  Street  for  this  purpose.  Now, 
what  are  the  undoubted  facts  ?  They  are,  that  two  per 
sons  were  seen  in  that  street,  at  several  times,  during  that 
evening,  under  suspicious  circumstances ; — under  such  cir 
cumstances  as  induced  those  who  saw  them,  to  watch  their 
movements.  Of  this,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  Mirick  saw 
a  man  standing  at  the  post  opposite  his  store,  from  fifteen 
minutes  before  nine,  until  twenty  minutes  after,  dressed  in 
a  full  frock-coat,  glazed  cap,  &c.,  in  size  and  general  ap 
pearance  answering  to  the  prisoner  at  the  bar.  This  person 
was  waiting  there  ;  and  whenever  any  one  approached  him, 
he  moved  to  and  from  the  corner,  as  though  he  would 
avoid  being  suspected,  or  recognised.  Afterward,  two  per 
sons  were  seen  by  Webster,  walking  in  Howard  Street,  with 
a  slow,  deliberate  movement,  that  attracted  his  attention. 
This  was  about  half-past  nine.  One  of  these  he  took  to 
be  the  prisoner  at  the  bar — the  other  he  did  not  know. 

About  half-past  ten,  a  person  is  seen  sitting  on  the 
rope  walk  steps,  wrapped  in  a  cloak.  He  drops  his  head 
when  passed,  to  avoid  being  known.  Shortly  after,  two 
persons  are  seen  to  meet  in  this  street,  without  ceremony 
or  salutation,  and  in  a  hurried  manner  to  converse  for  a 
short  time ;  then  to  separate,  and  run  off  with  great  speed. 
Now,  on  this  same  night,  a  gentleman  is  slain, — murdered 
in  his  bed. — his  house  being  entered  by  stealth  from  with 
out  ;  and  his  house  situated  within  three  hundred  feet  of 
this  street.  The  windows  of  his  chamber  were  in  plain  sight 
from  this  street ; — a  weapon  of  death  is  afterward  found 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         393 

in  a  place  where  these  persons  were  seen  to  pass — in  a 
retired  place,  around  which  they  had  been  seen  lingering. 
It  is  now  known  that  this  murder  was  committed  by  a  con 
spiracy  of  four  persons,  conspiring  together  for  this  pur 
pose.  No  account  is  given  who  these  suspected  persons 
thus  seen  in  Brown  Street  and  its  neighborhood  were. 
Now,  I  ask,  gentlemen,  whether  you  or  any  man  can 
doubt,  that  this  murder  was  committed  by  the  persons 
who  were  thus  in  and  about  Brown  Street  ?  Can  any 
person  doubt  that  they  were  there  for  purposes  connected 
with  this  murder  ?  If  not  for  this  purpose,  what  were 
they  there  for  ?  When  there  is  a  cause  so  near  at  hand, 
why  wander  into  conjecture  for  an  explanation  ?  Com 
mon  sense  requires  you  to  take  the  nearest  adequate  cause 
for  a  known  effect.  Who  were  these  suspicious  persons  in 
Brown  Street  ?  There  was  something  extraordinary  about 
them — something  noticeable,  and  noticed  at  the  time — some 
thing  in  their  appearance  that  aroused  suspicion.  And  a  man 
is  found  the  next  morning  murdered  in  the  near  vicinity. 

Now,  so  long  as  no  other  account  shall  be  given  of 
those  suspicious  persons,  so  long  the  inference  must  re 
main  irresistible,  that  they  were  the  murderers.  Let  it  be 
remembered,  that  it  is  already  shown  that  this  murder 
was  the  result  of  conspiracy,  and  of  concert ;  let  it  be 
remembered,  that  the  house,  having  been  opened  from 
within,  was  entered,  by  stealth,  from  without.  Let  it  be 
remembered  that  Brown  Street,  where  these  persons  were 
repeatedly  seen,  under  such  suspicious  circumstances,  was 
a  place  from  which  every  occupied  room  in  Mr.  White's 
house  was  clearly  seen ;  let  it  be  remembered  that  the 
place,  though  thus  very  near  to  Mr.  White's  house,  was  a 
retired  and  lonely  place ;  and  let  it  be  remembered  that  the 
instrument  of  death  was  afterward  found  concealed,  very 
near  the  same  spot. 


394  SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

Must  not  every  man  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  these 
persona,  thus  seen  in  Brown  Street,  were  the  murderers  ? 
Every  man's  own  judgment,  I  think,  must  satisfy  him  that 
this  must  be  so.  It  is  a  plain  deduction  of  common  sense. 
It  is  a  point,  on  which  each  one  of  you  may  reason  like  a 
Hale,  or  a  Mansfield.  The  two  occurrences  explain  each 
other.  The  murder  shows  why  these  persons  were  thus 
lurking,  at  that  hour,  in  Brown  Street ;  and  their  lurking 
in  Brown  Street,  shows  who  committed  the  murder. 

If,  then,  the  persons  in  and  about  Brown  Street  were 
the  plotters  and  executors  of  the  murder  of  Captain  White, 
we  know  who  they  were,  and  you  know  that  there  is  one 
of  them. 

This  fearful  concatenation  of  circumstances  puts  him  to 
an  account.  He  was  a  conspirator.  He  had  entered  into 
this  plan  of  murder.  The  murder  is  committed,  and  he  is 
known  to  have  been  within  three  minutes'  walk  of  the 
place.  He  must  account  for  himself.  He  has  attempted 
this,  and  failed.  Then,  with  all  these  general  reasons  to 
show  he  was  actually  in  Brown  Street,  and  his  failures  in 
his  ALIBI,  let  us  see  what  is  the  direct  proof  of  his  being 
there.  But  first,  let  me  ask,  is  it  not  very  remarkable, 
that  there  is  no  attempt  to  show  where  Richard  Crownin- 
shield,  Jr.  was  on  that  night?  We  hear  nothing  of  him.  He 
was  seen  in  none  of  his  usual  haunts,  about  the  town. 
Yet,  if  he  was  the  actual  perpetrator  of  the  murder, 
which  nobody  doubts,  he  was  in  the  town,  somewhere. 
Can  you,  therefore,  entertain  a  doubt,  that  he  was  one  of 
the  persons  seen  in  Brown  Street?  And  as  to  the  prisoner, 
you  will  recollect,  that  since  the  testimony  of  the  young 
men  has  failed  to  show  where  he  was  that  evening,  the  last 
we  hear  or  know  of  him,  on  the  day  preceding  the  murder, 
is,  that  at  four  o'clock  P.M.  he  was  at  his  brother's,  in 
Wenham.  He  had  left  home,  after  dinner,  in  a  manner 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         395 

doubtless  designed  to  avoid  observation,  and  had  gone  to 
Wenham.  probably  by  way  of  Danvers.  As  we  hear 
nothing  of  him,  after  four  o'clock  P.M.  for  the  remainder 
of  the  day  and  evening ;  as  he  was  one  of  the  conspirators ; 
as  Richard  Crowninshield,  Jr.  was  another ;  as  Richard 
Crowninshield,  Jr.  was  in  town  in  the  evening,  and  yet 
seen  in  no  usual  place  of  resort,  the  inference  is  very  fair 
that  Richard  Crowninshield,  Jr.  and  the  prisoner  were 
together,  acting  in  execution  of  their  conspiracy.  Of 
the  four  conspirators,  J.  J.  Knapp,  Jr.  was  at  Wenham, 
and  George  Crowninshield  has  been  accounted  for ;  so 
that  if  the  persons  seen  in  Brown  Street,  were  the  mur 
derers,  one  of  them  must  have  been  Richard  Crownin 
shield,  Jr.  and  the  other  must  have  been  the  prisoner  at 
the  bar.  Now,  as  to  the  proof  of  his  identity  with  one  of 
the  persons  seen  in  Brown  Street. 

Mr.  Mirick,  a  cautious  witness,  examined  the  person  hs 
saw,  closely,  in  a  light  night,  and  says  that  he  thinks  the 
prisoner  at  the  bar  is  the  same  person  ;  and  that  he  should 
not  hesitate  at  all,  if  he  were  seen  in  the  same  dress.  His 
opinion  is  formed,  partly  from  his  own  observation,  and 
partly  from  the  description  of  others.  But  this  description 
turns  out  to  be  only  in  regard  to  the  dress.  It  is  said,  that 
he  is  now  more  confident,  than  on  the  former  trial.  If  he 
has  varied  in  his  testimony,  make  such  allowance  as  you 
may  think  proper.  I  do  not  perceive  any  material  variance. 
He  thought  him  the  same  person,  when  he  was  first  brought 
to  court,  and  as  he  saw  him  get  out  of  the  chaise.  This  is 
one  of  the  cases,  in  which  a  witness  is  permitted  to  give  an 
opinion.  This  witness  is  as  honest  as  yourselves — neither 
willing  nor  swift;  but  he  says,  he  believes  it  was  the  man — 
"this  is  my  opinion ;"  and  this  it  is  proper  for  him  to  give. 
If  partly  founded  on  what  he  has  heard,  then  his  opinion 
is  not  to  be  taken ;  but,  if  on  what  he  saw,  then  you  can 


396  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

have  no  better  evidence.  I  lay  no  stress  on  similarity  of 
dress.  No  man  will  ever  be  hanged  by  my  voice  on  such 
evidence.  But  then  it  is  proper  to  notice,  that  no  infer 
ences  drawn  from  any  dissimilarity  of  dress,  can  be  given 
in  the  prisoner's  favor ;  because,  in  fact,  the  person  seer, 
by  Mirick  was  dressed  like  the  prisoner. 

The  description  of  the  person  seen  by  Mirick  answers  to 
that  of  the  prisoner  at  the  bar.  In  regard  to  the  supposed 
discrepancy  of  statements,  before  and  now,  there  would  be 
no  end  to  such  minute  inquiries.  It  would  not  be  strange 
if  witnesses  should  vary.  I  do  not  think  much  of  slight 
shades  of  variation.  If  I  believe  the  witness  is  honest, 
that  is  enough.  If  he  has  expressed  himself  more  strongly 
now  than  then,  this  does  not  prove  him  false. 

Peter  E.  Webster  saw  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  as  he  then 
thought,  and  still  thinks,  walking  in  Howard  Street  at  half- 
past  nine  o'clock.  He  then  thought  it  was  Frank  Knapp, 
and  has  not  altered  his  opinion  since.  He  knew  him  well ; 
he  had  long  known  him.  If  he  then  thought  it  was  he,  this 
goes  far  to  prove  it.  He  observed  him  the  more,  as  it  was 
unusual  to  see  gentlemen  walk  there  at  that  hour.  It  was 
a  retired,  lonely  street.  Now,  is  there  reasonable  doubt 
that  Mr.  Webster  did  see  him  there  that  night  ?  How  can 
you  have  more  proof  than  this  ?  He  judged  by  his  walk, 
by  his  general  appearance,  by  his  deportment.  We  all 
judge  in  this  manner.  If  you  believe  he  is  right,  it  goes 
a  great  way  in  this  case.  But  then  this  person  it  is  said 
had  a  cloak  on,  and  that  he  could  not,  therefore,  be  the 
same  person  that  Mirick  saw.  If  we  were  treating  of  men 
that  had  no  occasion  to  disguise  themselves  or  their  con 
duct,  there  might  be  something  in  this  argument.  But  as 
it  is,  there  is  little  in  it.  It  may  be  presumed  that  they 
would  change  their  dress.  This  would  help  their  disguise. 
What  is  easier  than  to  throw  off  a  cloak,  and  again  put  it 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         397 

on?     Perhaps  he  was  less  fearful  of  being  known  when 
alone,  than  when  with  the  perpetrator. 

Mr.  Southwick  swears  all  that  a  man  can  swear.  He 
has  the  best  means  of  judging  that  could  be  had  at  the 
time.  He  tells  you  that  he  left  his  father's  house  at  half- 
past  ten  o'clock,  and  as  he  passed  to  his  own  house  in 
Brown  Street,  he  saw  a  man  sitting  on  the  steps  of  the 
ropewalk,  &c.  &c. — that  he  passed  him  three  times,  and 
each  time  he  held  down  his  head,  so  that  he  did  not  see  his 
face.  That  the  man  had  on  a  cloak,  which  was  not  wrapped 
around  him,  and  a  glazed  cap.  That  he  took  the  man  to 
be  Frank  Knapp  at  the  time ;  that  when  he  went  into  his 
house,  he  told  his  wife  that  he  thought  it  was  Frank  Knapp ; 
that  he  knew  him  well,  having  'known  him  from  a  boy. 
And  his  wife  swears  that  he  did  so  tell  her  at  the  time. 
What  could  mislead  this  witness  at  the  time  ?  He  was  not 
then  suspecting  Frank  Knapp  of  any  thing.  He  could  not 
then  be  influenced  by  any  prejudice.  If  you  believe  that 
the  witness  saw  Frank  Knapp  in  this  position,  at  this  time, 
it  proves  the  case.  Whether  you  believe  it  or  not,  depends 
upon  the  credit  of  the  witness.  He  swears  it.  If  true,  it 
is  solid  evidence.  Mrs.  Southwick  supports  her  husband. 
Are  they  true  ?  Are  they  worthy  of  belief  ?  If  he  de 
serves  the  epithets  applied  to  him,  then  he  ought  not  to  be 
believed.  In  this  fact,  they  cannot  be  mistaken  :  they  are 
right,  or  they  are  perjured.  As  to  his  not  speaking  to 
Frank  Knapp,  that  depends  upon  their  intimacy.  But  a 
very  good  reason  is,  Frank  chose  to  disguise  himself.  This 
makes  nothing  against  his  credit.  But  it  is  said  that  he 
should  not  be  believed.  And  why  ?  Because,  it  is  said, 
he  himself  now  tells  you  that  when  he  testified  before  the 
grand  jury  at  Ipswich,  he  did  not  then  say  that  he  thought 
the  person  he  saw  in  Brown  Street  was  Frank  Knapp,  but 
that  "the  person  was  about  the  size  of  Selman."  The 

34 


398  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

means  of  attacking  him,  therefore,  come  from  himself.  If 
he  is  a  false  man,  why  should  he  tell  truths  against  him 
self?  they  rely  on  his  veracity  to  prove  that  he  is  a  liar. 
Before  you  can  come  to  this  conclusion,  you  will  consider, 
whether  all  the  circumstances  are  now  known,  that  should 
have  a  bearing  on  this  point.  Suppose  that  when  he  was 
before  the  grand  jury  he  was  asked  by  the  attorney  this 
question,  "  Was  the  person  you  saw  in  Brown  Street  about 
the  size  of  Selman?"  and  he  answered,  yes.  This  was  all 
true.  Suppose  also  that  he  expected  to  be  inquired  of 
further,  and  no  further  questions  were  put  to  him.  Would 
it  not  be  extremely  hard  to  impute  to  him  perjury  for  this? 
It  is  not  uncommon  for  witnesses  to  think  that  they  have 
done  all  their  duty,  when  they  have  answered  the  questions 
put  to  them  ?  But  suppose  that  we  admit,  that  he  did  not 
then  tell  all  he  knew,  this  does  not  affect  the  fact  at  all ; 
because  he  did  tell,  at  the  time,  in  the  hearing  of  others, 
that  the  person  he  saw  was  Frank  Knapp.  There  is  not 
the  slightest  suggestion  against  the  veracity  or  accuracy 
of  Mrs.  Southwick.  Now,  she  swears  positively,  that  her 
husband  came  into  the  house  and  told  her  that  he  had  seen 
a  person  on  the  ropewalk  steps,  and  believed  it  was  Frank 
Knapp. 

It  is  said  that  Mr.  Southwick  is  contradicted,  also,  by 
Mr.  Shillaber.  I  do  not  so  understand  Mr.  Shillaber's 
testimony.  I  think  what  they  both  testify  is  reconcilable 
and  consistent.  My  learned  brother  said,  on  a  similar 
occasion,  that  there  is  more  probability  in  such  cases  that 
the  persons  hearing  should  misunderstand,  than  that  the 
person  speaking  should  contradict  himself.  I  think  the 
same  remarks  applicable  here. 

You  have  all  witnessed  the  uncertainty  of  testimony, 
when  witnesses  are  called  to  testify  what  other  witnesses 
said.  Several  respectable  counsellors  have  been  called  on, 


ON   THE   TRIAL   OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.  399 

on  this  occasion,  to  give  testimony  of  that  sort.  They 
have,  every  one  of  them,  given  different  versions.  They 
all  took  minutes  at  the  time,  and  without  doubt  intend  to 
state  the  truth.  But  still  they  differ.  Mr.  Shillaber's 
version  is  different  from  every  thing  that  Southwick  has 
stated  elsewhere.  But  little  reliance  is  to  be  placed  on 
slight  variations  in  testimony,  unless  they  are  manifestly 
intentional.  I  think  that  Mr.  Shillaber  must  be  satisfied 
that  he  did  not  rightly  understand  Mr.  Southwick.  I 
confess  I  misunderstood  Mr.  Shillaber  on  the  former  trial, 
if  I  now  rightly  understand  him.  I  therefore  did  not  then 
recall  Mr.  Southwick  to  the  stand.  Mr.  Southwick,  as  I 
read  it,  understood  Mr.  Shillaber  as  asking  him  about  a 
person  coming  out  of  Newbury  Street,  and  whether,  for 
aught  he  knew,  it  might  not  be  Richard  Crowninshield,  Jr. 
He  answered  that  he  could  not  tell.  He  did  not  under 
stand  Mr.  Shillaber  as  questioning  him  as  to  the  person 
whom  he  saw  sitting  on  the  steps  of  the  ropewalk. 
Southwick,  on  this  trial,  having  heard  Mr.  Shillaber,  has 
been  recalled  to  the  stand,  and  states  that  Mr.  Shillaber 
entirely  misunderstood  him.  This  is  certainly  most  pro 
bable,  because  the  controlling  fact  in  the  case  is  not  con 
troverted — that  is,  that  Southwick  did  tell  his  wife,  at  tho 
very  moment  he  entered  his  house,  that  he  had  seen  a 
person  on  the  ropewalk  steps,  whom  he  believed  to  be 
Frank  Knapp.  Nothing  can  prove,  with  more  certainty 
than  this,  that  Southwick,  at  the  time,  thought  the  person 
whom  he  thus  saw  to  be  the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 

Mr.  Bray  is  an  acknowledged  accurate  and  intelligent 
witness.  He  was  highly  complimented  by  my  brother  on 
the  former  trial,  although  he  now  charges  him  with  vary 
ing  his  testimony.  What  could  be  his  motive  ?  You  will 
be  slow  in  imputing  to  him  any  design  of  this  kind.  I 
deny  altogether  that  there  is  any  contradiction.  There 


400  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

may  be  differences,  but  not  contradiction.  These  arise 
from  the  difference  in  the  questions  put — the  difference 
between  believing  and  knowing.  On  the  first  trial,  he  said 
he  did  not  know  the  person,  and  now  says  the  same.  Then 
•we  did  not  do  all  we  had  a  right  to  do.  We  did  not  ask 
him  who  he  tliouglit  it  was.  Now,  when  so  asked,  he  says 
he  believes  it  was  the  prisoner  at  the  bar.  If  he  had  then 
been  asked  this  question,  he  would  have  given  the  same 
answer.  That  he  has  expressed  himself  stronger,  I 
admit ;  but  he  has  not  contradicted  himself.  He  is  more 
confident  now ;  and  that  is  all.  A  man  may  not  assert  a 
thing,  and  still  not  have  any  doubt  upon  it.  Cannot 
every  man  see  this  distinction  to  be  consistent?  I  leave 
him  in  that  attitude;  that  only  is  the  difference.  On 
questions  of  identity,  opinion  is  evidence.  We  may  ask 
the  witness  either  if  he  knew  who  the  person  seen  was,  or 
who  he  thinks  he  was.  And  he  may  well  answer,  as 
Captain  Bray  has  answered,  that  he  does  not  know  who  it 
was,  but  that  he  thinks  it  was  the  prisoner. 

We  have  offered  to  produce  witnesses  to  prove  that  as 
soon  as  Bray  saw  the  prisoner,  he  pronounced  him  the 
same  person.  We  are  not  at  liberty  to  call  them  to  cor 
roborate  our  own  witness.  How  then  could  this  fact  of 
prisoner's  being  in  Brown  Street  be  better  proved  ?  If  ten 
witnesses  had  testified  to  it,  it  would  be  no  better.  Two 
men,  who  knew  him  well,  took  it  to  be  Frank  Knapp,  and 
one  of  them  so  said,  when  there  was  nothing  to  mislead 
them.  Two  others,  that  examined  him  closely,  now  swear 
to  their  opinion  that  he  is  the  man. 

Miss  Jaqueth  saw  three  persons  pass  by  the  ropewalk, 
several  evenings  before  the  murder.  She  saw  one  of  them 
pointing  toward  Mr.  White's  house.  She  noticed  that 
another  had  something  which  appeared  to  be  like  an 
instrument  of  music;  that  he  put  it  behind  him,  and 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         401 

attempted  to  conceal  it.  Who  were  these  persons  ?  This 
was  but  a  few  steps  from  the  place  where  this  apparent 
instrument  of  music  (of  music  such  as  Richard  Crownin- 
shield,  Jr.  spoke  of  to  Palmer)  was  afterward  found. 
These  facts  prove  this  a  point  of  rendezvous  for  these 
parties.  They  show  Brown  Street  to  have  been  the  place 
for  consultation  and  observation ;  and  to  this  purpose  it 
was  well  suited. 

Mr.  Burns's  testimony  is  also  important.  "What  was 
the  defendant's  object  in  his  private  conversation  with 
Burns?  He  knew  that  Burns  was  out  that  night;  that 
he  lived  near  Brown  Street,  and  that  he  had  probably  seen 
him ;  and  he  wished  him  to  say  nothing.  He  said  to 
Burns,  "If  you  saw  any  of  your  friends  out  that  night, 
say  nothing  about  it.  My  brother  Jo  and  I  are  your 
friends."  This  is  plain  proof  that  he  wished  to  say  to 
him,  If  you  saw  me  in  Brown  Street  that  night,  say 
nothing  about  it. 

But  it  is  said  that  Burns  ought  not  to  be  believed, 
because  he  mistook  the  color  of  the  dagger,  and  because 
he  has  varied  in  his  description  of  it.  These  are  slight 
circumstances,  if  his  general  character  be  good.  To  my 
mind  they  are  of  no  importance.  It  is  for  you  to  make 
what  deduction  you  may  think  proper,  on  this  account, 
from  the  weight  of  his  evidence.  His  conversation  with 
Burns,  if  Burns  is  believed,  shows  two  things:  first,  that 
he  desired  Burns  not  to  mention  it,  if  he  had  seen  him  on 
the  night  of  the  murder ;  second,  that  he  wished  to  fix  the 
charge  of  murder  on  Mr.  Stephen  White.  Both  of  these 
prove  his  own  guilt. 

I  think  you  will  be  of  opinion,  gentlemen,  that  Brown 
Street  was  a  probable  place  for  the  conspirators  to  assem 
ble,  and  for  an  aid  to  be.  If  we  knew  their  whole  plan, 
and  if  we  were  skilled  to  judge  in  such  a  case,  then  we 

34* 


40£  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

could  perhaps  determine  on  this  point  better.  But  it  is  a 
retired  place,  and  still  commands  a  full  view  of  the  house ; 
— a  lonely  place,  but  still  a  place  of  observation.  Not 
so  lonely  that  a  person  would  excite  suspicion  to  be  seen 
walking  there  in  an  ordinary  manner ; — not  so  public  as 
to  be  noticed  by  many.  It  is  near  enough  to  the  scene  of 
action  in  point  of  law.  It  was  their  point  of  centrality. 
The  club  was  found  near  the  spot— in  a  place  provided  for 
it — in  a  place  that  had  been  previously  hunted  out — in  a 
concerted  place  of  concealment.  Here  was  their  point  of 
rendezvous  ;  here  might  the  lights  be  seen ;  here  might  an 
aid  be  secreted ;  here  was  he  within  call ;  here  might  he 
be  aroused  by  the  sound  of  the  ivhistle ;  here  might  he 
carry  the  weapon  ;  here  might  he  receive  the  murderer 
after  the  murder. 

Then,  gentlemen,  the  general  question  occurs,  is  it 
satisfactorily  proved,  by  all  these  facts  and  circumstances, 
that  the  defendant  was  in  and  about  Brown  Street,  on  the 
night  of  the  murder  ?  Considering,  that  the  murder  was 
effected  by  a  conspiracy ; — considering,  that  he  was  one  of 
the  four  conspirators ; — considering,  that  two  of  the  con 
spirators  have  accounted  for  themselves,  on  the  night  of 
the  murder,  and  were  not  in  Brown  Street ; — considering, 
that  the  prisoner  does  not  account  for  himself,  nor  show 
where  he  was ; — considering,  that  Richard  Crowninshield, 
the  other  conspirator,  and  the  perpetrator,  is  not  accounted 
for,  nor  shown  to  be  elsewhere  ; — considering,  that  it  is 
now  past  all  doubt  that  two  persons  were  seen  in  and 
about  Brown  Street,  at  different  times,  lurking,  avoiding 
observation,  and  exciting  so  much  suspicion  that  the  neigh 
bors  actually  watched  them  ; — considering,  that  if  these 
persons,  thus  lurking  in  Brown  Street,  at  that  hour,  were 
not  the  murderers,  it  remains,  to  this  day,  wholly  unknown 
who  they  were,  or  what  their  business  was ; — considering 


ON  THE   TRIAL   OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.  403 

the  testimony  of  Miss  Jaqueth,  and  that  the  club  was 
afterward  found  near  this  place ;  considering,  finally, 
that  Webster  and  Southwick  saw  these  persons,  and  then 
took  one  of  them  for  the  defendant,  and  that  Southwick 
then  told  his  wife  so,  and  that  Bray  and  Mirick  examined 
them  closely,  and  now  swear  to  their  belief  that  the 
prisoner  was  one  of  them ;  it  is  for  you  to  say,  putting 
these  considerations  together,  whether  you  believe  the 
prisoner  was  actually  in  Brown  Street,  at  the  time  of  the 
murder. 

By  the  counsel  for  the  defendant,  much  stress  has  been 
laid  upon  the  question,  whether  Brown  Street  was  a  place 
in  which  aid  could  be  given  ?  a  place  in  which  actual  as 
sistance  could  be  rendered  in  this  transaction  ?  This  must 
be  mainly  decided,  by  their  own  opinion  who  selected  the 
place ;  by  what  they  thought  at  the  time,  according  to  their 
plan  of  operation. 

If  it  was  agreed  that  the  prisoner  should  be  there  to 
assist,  it  is  enough.  If  they  thought  the  place  proper  for 
their  purpose,  according  to  their  plain,  it  is  sufficient. 

Suppose  we  could  prove  expressly,  that  they  agreed  that 
Frank  should  be  there,  and  he  was  there  ;  and  you  should 
think  it  not  a  well-chosen  place,  for  aiding  and  abetting, 
must  he  be  acquitted  ?  No  ! — it  is  not  what  I  think,  or 
you  think,  of  the  appropriateness  of  the  place — it  is  what 
they  thought  at  the  time. 

If  the  prisoner  was  in  Brown  Street,  by  appointment 
and  agreement  with  the  perpetrator,  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  assistance,  if  assistance  should  be  needed,  it  may 
safely  be  presumed  that  the  place  was  suited  to  such  assist 
ance  as  it  was  supposed  by  the  parties  might  chance  to 
become  requisite. 

If  in  Brown  Street,  was  he  there  by  appointment  ?  was 
he  there  to  aid,  if  aid  were  necessary  ?  was  he  there  for,  or 


404  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

against  the  murderer  ?  to  concur,  or  to  oppose  ?  to  favor, 
or  to  thwart  ?  Did  the  perpetrator  know  he  was  there — 
there  waiting  ?  If  so,  then  it  follows,  he  was  there  by 
appointment.  He  was  at  the  post,  half  an  hour ;  he  was 
waiting  for  somebody.  This  proves  appointment — arrange- 
ment — previous  agreement ;  then  it  follows,  he  was  there 
to  aid, — to  encourage, — to  embolden  the  perpetrator  ;  and 
that  is  enough.  If  he  were  in  such  a  situation  as  to  afford 
aid,  or  that  he  was  relied  upon  for  aid, — then  he  was  aid 
ing  and  abetting.  It  is  enough  that  the  conspirators 
desired  to  have  him  there.  Besides,  it  may  be  well  said, 
that  he  could  afford  just  as  much  aid  there,  as  if  he  had 
been  in  Essex  Street — as  if  he  had  been  standing  even  at 
the  gate,  or  at  the  window.  It  was  not  an  act  of  power 
against  power  that  was  to  be  done, — it  was  a  secret  act,  to 
be  done  by  stealth.  The  aid  was  to  be  placed  in  a  position 
secure  from  observation.  It  was  important  to  the  security 
of  both,  that  he  should  be  in  a  lonely  place.  Now,  it  is 
obvious,  that  there  are  many  purposes  for  which  he  might 
be  in  Brown  Street. 

1.  Richard  Crowninshield  might  have  been  secreted  in 
the  garden,  and  waiting  for  a  signal. 

2.  Or  he  might  be  in  Brown  Street,  to  advise  him  as  to 
the  time  of  making  his  entry  into  the  house. 

3.  Or  to  favor  his  escape. 

4.  Or  to  see  if  the  street  was  clear  when  he  came  out. 

5.  Or  to  conceal  the  weapon  or  the  clothes. 

6.  To  be  ready  for  any  other  unforeseen  contingency. 

Richard  Crowninshield  lived  in  Danvers — he  would  re- 
tiro  the  most  secret  way.  Brown  Street  is  that  way ;  if 
you  find  him  there,  can  you  doubt  why  he  was  there  ? 

If,  gentlemen,  the -prisoner  went  into  Brown  Street,  by 
appointment  with  the  perpetrator,  to  render  aid  or  en 
couragement,  in  any  of  these  ways,  he  was  present,  in 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         405 

legal  contemplation,  aiding  and  abetting  in  this  murder. 
It  is  not  necessary  that  he  should  have  done  any  thing ; 
it  is  enough,  that  he  was  ready  to  act,  and  in  a  place  to 
act.  If  his  being  in  Brown  Street,  by  appointment,  at 
the  time  of  the  murder,  emboldened  the  purpose  and  en 
couraged  the  heart  of  the  murderer,  by  the  hope  of  instant 
aid,  if  aid  should  become  necessary,  then,  without  doubt, 
he  was  present,  aiding  and  abetting,  and  was  a  principal 
in  the  murder. 

I  now  proceed,  gentlemen,  to  the  consideration  of  the 
testimony  of  Mr.  Colman.  Although  this  evidence  bears 
on  every  material  part  of  the  cause,  I  have  purposely 
avoided  every  comment  on  it,  till  the  present  moment, 
when  I  have  done  with  the  other  evidence  in  the  case.  As 
to  the  admission  of  this  evidence,  there  has  been  a  great 
struggle,  and  its  importance  demanded  it.  The  general 
rule  of  law  is,  that  confessions  are  to  be  received  as  evi 
dence.  They  are  entitled  to  great  or  to  little  considera 
tion,  according  to  the  circumstances  under  which  they  are 
made.  Voluntary,  deliberate  confessions  are  the  most  im 
portant  and  satisfactory  evidence.  But  confessions  hastily 
made,  or  improperly  obtained,  are  entitled  to  little  or  no 
consideration.  It  is  always  to  be  inquired,  whether  they 
were  purely  voluntary,  or  were  made  under  any  undue  in 
fluence  of  hope  or  fear  ;  for,  in  general,  if  any  influence 
were  exerted  on  the  mind  of  the  person  confessing,  such 
confessions  are  not  to  be  submitted  to  a  jury. 

Who  is  Mr.  Colman  ?  He  is  an  intelligent,  accurate, 
and  cautious  witness.  A  gentleman  of  high  and  well- 
known  character ;  and  of  unquestionable  veracity.  As  a 
clergyman,  highly  respectable ;  as  a  man,  of  fair  name  and 
fame. 

Why  was  Mr.  Colman  with  the  prisoner?  Joseph  J. 
Knapp  was  his  parishioner ;  he  was  the  head  of  a  family, 


406  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

and  had  been  married  by  Mr.  Colman.  The  interests  of 
his  family  were  dear  to  him.  He  felt  for  their  afflictions, 
and  was  anxious  to  alleviate  their  sufferings.  He  went 
from  the  purest  and  best  of  motives  to  visit  Joseph  Knapp. 
He  came  to  save,  not  to  destroy ;  to  rescue,  not  to  take 
away  life.  In  this  family,  he  thought  there  might  be  a 
chance  to  save  one.  It  is  a  misconstruction  of  Mr.  Colman's 
motives,  at  once  the  most  strange  and  the  most  unchari 
table,  a  perversion  of  all  just  views  of  his  conduct  and 
intentions,  the  most  unaccountable,  to  represent  him  as 
acting,  on  this  occasion,  in  hostility  to  any  one,  or  as  de 
sirous  of  injuring  or  endangering  any  one.  He  has  stated 
his  own  motives,  and  his  own  conduct,  in  a  manner  to  com 
mand  universal  belief,  and  universal  respect.  For  intelli 
gence,  for  consistency,  for  accuracy,  for  caution,  for  candor, 
never  did  witness  acquit  himself  better,  or  stand  fairer.  In 
all  that  he  did,  as  a  man,  and  all  he  has  said,  as  a  witness, 
he  has  shown  himself  worthy  of  entire  regard. 

Now,  gentlemen,  very  important  confessions  made  by  the 
prisoner,  are  sworn  to  by  Mr.  Colman.  They  were  made 
in  the  prisoner's  cell,  where  Mr.  Colman  had  gone  with  the 
prisoner's  brother,  N.  P.  Knapp.  Whatever  conversation 
took  place,  was  in  the  presence  of  N.  P.  Knapp.  Now,  on 
the  part  of  the  prisoner,  two  things  are  asserted ;  first,  that 
such  inducements  were  suggested  to  the  prisoner,  in  this 
interview,  that  any  confessions  by  him  ought  not  to  be  re 
ceived.  Second,  that,  in  point  of  fact,  he  made  no  such 
confessions,  as  Mr.  Colman  testifies  to,  nor,  indeed,  any 
confessions  at  all.  These  two  propositions  are  attempted 
to  be  supported  by  the  testimony  of  N.  P.  Knapp.  These 
two  witnesses,  Mr.  Colman  and  N.  P.  Knapp,  differ  entirely. 
There  is  no  possibility  of  reconciling  them.  No  charity  can 
cover  both.  One  or  the  other  has  sworn  falsely.  If  N.  P. 
Knapp  be  believed,  Mr.  Colman's  testimony  must  be  wholly 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         407 

disregarded.  It  is,  then,  a  question  of  credit,  a  question 
of  belief,  between  the  two  witnesses.  As  you  decide 
between  these,  so  you  will  decide  on  all  this  part  of  the 
case. 

Mr.  Colman  has  given  you  a  plain  narrative,  a  consistent 
account,  and  has  uniformly  stated  the  same  things.  He  is 
not  contradicted  by  any  thing  in  the  case,  except  Phippen 
Knapp.  He  is  influenced,  as  far  as  we  can  see,  by  no  bias, 
or  prejudice,  any  more  than  other  men,  except  so  far  as  his 
character  is  now  at  stake.  He  has  feelings  on  this  point, 
doubtless,  and  ought  to  have.  If  what  he  has  stated  be 
not  true,  I  cannot  see  any  ground  for  his  escape.  If  he  be 
a  true  man,  he  must  have  heard  what  he  testifies.  No 
treachery  of  memory  brings  to  memory  things  that  never 
took  place.  There  is  no  reconciling  his  evidence  with  good 
intention,  if  the  facts  are  not  as  he  states  them.  He  is  on 
trial  as  to  his  veracity. 

The  relation  in  which  the  other  witness  stands,  deserves 
your  careful  consideration.  He  is  a  member  of  the  family. 
He  has  the  lives  of  two  brothers  depending,  as  he  may 
think,  on  the  effect  of  his  evidence ;  depending  on  every 
word  he  speaks.  I  hope  he  has  not  another  responsibility 
resting  upon  him.  By  the  advice  of  a  friend,  and  that 
friend  Mr.  Colman,  J.  Knapp  made  a  full  and  free  con 
fession,  and  obtained  a  promise  of  pardon.  He  has  since, 
as  you  know,  probably  by  the  advice  of  other  friends,  re 
tracted  that  confession,  and  rejected  the  offered  pardon. 
Events  will  show,  who  of  these  friends  and  advisers  ad 
vised  him  best,  and  befriended  him  most.  In  the  mean 
time,  if  this  brother,  the  witness,  be  one  of  these  advisers, 
and  advised  the  retraction,  he  has,  most  emphatically,  the 
lives  of  his  brothers  resting  upon  his  evidence  and  upon 
his  conduct.  Compare  the  situation  of  these  two  witnesses. 
Do  you  not  see  mighty  motive  enoagh  on  the  one  side,  and 


408  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

want  of  all  motive  on  the  other?  I  would  gladly  find  an 
apology  for  that  witness,  in  his  agonized  feelings, — in  his 
distressed  situation ; — in  the  agitation  of  that  hour,  or  of 
this.  I  would  gladly  impute  it  to  error,  or  to  want  of 
recollection,  to  confusion  of  mind,  or  disturbance  of  feel 
ing.  I  would  gladly  impute  to  any  pardonable  source,  that 
which  cannot  be  reconciled  to  facts,  and  to  truth ;  but,  even 
in  a  case  calling  for  so  much  sympathy,  justice  must  yet 
prevail,  and  we  must  come  to  the  conclusion,  however  re 
luctantly,  which  that  demands  from  us. 

It  is  said,  Phippen  Knapp  was  probably  correct,  because 
he  knew  he  should  be  called  as  a  witness.  Witness — to 
what?  When  he  says  there  was  no  confession,  what  could 
he  expect  to  bear  witness  of?  But  I  do  not  put  it  on  the 
ground  that  he  did  not  hear ;  I  am  compelled  to  put  it  on 
the  other  ground — that  he  did  hear,  and  does  not  now  truly 
tell  what  he  heard. 

If  Mr.  Colman  were  out  of  the  case,  there  are  other 
reasons  why  the  story  of  Phippen  Knapp  should  not  be 
believed.  It  has  in  it  inherent  improbabilities.  It  is  un 
natural,  and  inconsistent  with  the  accompanying  circum 
stances.  He  tells  you  that  they  went  "  to  the  cell  of 
Frank,  to  see  if  he  had  any  objection  to  taking  a  trial,  and 
suffering  his  brother  to  accept  the  offer  of  pardon :"  in 
other  words,  to  obtain  Frank's  consent  to  Joseph's  making 
a  confession ;  and  in  case  this  consent  was  not  obtained, 
that  the  pardon  would  be  offered  to  Frank,  &c.  Did  they 
bandy  about  the  chance  of  life,  between  these  two,  in  thia 
way  ?  Did  Mr.  Colman,  after  having  given  this  pledge  to 
Joseph,  after  having  received  a  disclosure  from  Joseph,  go 
to  the  cell  to  Frank  for  such  a  purpose  as  this  ?  It  is  im 
possible  ;  it  cannot  be  so. 

Again :  we  know  that  Mr.  Colman  found  the  club  the 
next  day ;  that  he  went  directly  to  the  place  of  deposit, 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         409 

and  found  it  at  the  first  attempt, — exactly  where  he  says 
he  had  been  informed  it  was.  Now,  Phippen  Knapp  says 
that  Frank  had  stated  nothing  respecting  the  club,  that  it 
was  not  mentioned  in  that  conversation.  He  says,  also, 
that  he  was  present  in  the  cell  of  Joseph  all  the  time  that 
Mr.  Colman  was  there,  that  he  believes  he  heard  all  that 
was  said  in  Joseph's  cell ;  and  that  he  did  not  himself 
know  where  the  club  was,  and  never  had  known  where  it 
was,  until  he  heard  it  stated  in  court.  Now,  it  is  certain, 
that  Mr.  Colman  says  he  did  not  learn  the  particular 
place  of  deposit  of  the  club  from  Joseph ;  that  he  only 
learned  from  him  that  it  was  deposited  under  the  steps  of 
the  Howard  Street  meeting-house,  without  defining  the 
particular  steps.  It  is  certain,  also,  that  he  had  more 
Vnowledge  of  the  position  of  the  club  than  this — else  how 
could  he  have  placed  his  hand  on  it  so  readily  ?  and  where 
else  could  he  have  obtained  his  knowledge,  except  from 
Frank  ?  [Here  Mr.  Dexter  said  that  Mr.  Colmau  had  had 
other  interviews  with  Joseph,  and  might  have  derived  the 
information  from  him  at  previous  visits.  Mr.  Webster 
replied,  that  Mr.  Colman  had  testified  that  he  learned 
nothing  in  relation  to  the  club  until  this  visit.  Mr.  Dex 
ter  denied  there  being  any  such  testimony.  Mr.  Colman's 
evidence  was  then  read  from  the  notes  of  the  judges,  and 
several  other  persons,  and  Mr.  Webster  then  proceeded.] 
My  point  is,  to  show  that  Phippen  Knapp's  story  is  not 
true,  is  not  consistent  with  itself.  That  taking  it  for 
granted,  as  he  says,  that  he  heard  all  that  was  said  to  Mr. 
Colman  in  both  cells,  by  Joseph,  and  by  Frank ;  and  that 
Joseph  did  not  state  particularly  where  the  club  was  de 
posited  ;  and  that  he  knew  as  much  about  the  place  of 
deposit  of  the  club,  as  Mr.  Colman  knew ;  why  then,  Mr. 
Colman  must  either  have  been  miraculously  informed 
respecting  the  club,  or  Phippen  Knapp  has  not  told  you 

35 


410         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

the  whole  truth.  There  is  no  reconciling  this,  without 
supposing  Mr.  Colman  has  misrepresented  what  took  place 
in  Joseph's  cell,  as  well  as  what  took  place  in  Frank's 
cell. 

Again,  Phippen  Knapp  is  directly  contradicted  by  Mr. 
Wheatland.  Mr.  Wheatland  tells  the  same  story  as  coming 
from  Phippen  Knapp,  as  Mr.  Colman  now  tells.  Here 
there  are  two  against  one.  Phippen  Knapp  says  that 
Frank  made  no  confessions,  and  that  he  said  he  had  none 
to  make.  In  this  he  is  contradicted  by  Wheatland.  He, 
Phippen  Knapp,  told  Wheatland,  that  Mr.  Colman  did  ask 
Frank  some  questions,  and  that  Frank  answered  them. 
He  told  him  also  what  these  answers  were.  Wheatland 
does  not  recollect  the  questions  or  answers,  but  recollects 
his  reply ;  which  was,  "  Is  not  this  premature  f  I  think 
this  answer  is  sufficient  to  make  Frank  a  principal." 
Here  Phippen  Knapp  opposes  himself  to  Wheatland,  as 
well  as  to  Mr.  Colman.  Do  you  believe  Phippen  Knapp, 
against  these  two  respectable  witnesses — or  them  against 
him  ? 

Is  not  Mr.  Colman's  testimony  credible,  natural,  and 
proper  ?  To  judge  of  this,  you  must  go  back  to  that  scene. 

The  murder  had  been  committed ;  the  two  Knapps 
were  now  arrested;  four  persons  were  already  in  jail 
supposed  to  be  concerned  in  it, — the  Crowninshields  and 
Selman  and  Chase.  Another  person  to  the  eastward  was 
supposed  to  be  in  the  plot ;  it  was  important  to  learn  the 
facts.  To  do  this,  some  one  of  those  suspected  must  be 
admitted  to  turn  State's  witness.  The  contest  was,  who 
should  have  this  privilege  f  It  was  understood  that  it  was 
about  to  be  offered  to  Palmer,  then  in  Maine :  there  was 
no  good  reason  why  he  should  have  the  preference.  Mr. 
Colman  felt  interested  for  the  family  of  the  Knapps,  and 
particularly  for  Joseph.  He  was  a  young  man  who  had 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         411 

hitherto  sustained  a  fair  standing  in  society ;  he  was  a 
husband.  Mr.  Colman  was  particularly  intimate  with  his 
family.  With  these  views  he  went  to  the  prison.  He  be 
lieved  that  he  might  safely  converse  with  the  prisoner, 
because  he  thought  confessions  made  to  a  clergyman  were 
sacred,  and  that  he  could  not  be  called  upon  to  disclose 
them.  He  went,  the  first  time,  in  the  morning,  and  was 
requested  to  come  again.  He  went  again  at  three  o'clock; 
and  was  requested  to  call  again  at  five  o'clock.  In  the 
mean  time  he  saw  the  father  and  Phippen,  and  they 
wished  he  would  not  go  again,  because  it  would  be  said 
the  prisoners  were  making  confession.  He  said  he  had  en 
gaged  to  go  again  at  five  o'clock ;  but  would  not,  if  Phip 
pen  would  excuse  him  to  Joseph.  Phippen  engaged  to  do 
this,  and  to  meet  him  at  his  office  at  five  o'clock.  Mr.  Col 
man  went  to  the  office  at  the  time,  and  waited ;  but  as  Phip 
pen  was  not  there,  he  walked  down  street  and  saw  him 
coming  from  the  jail.  He  met  him,  and  while  in  con 
versation,  near  the  church,  he  saw  Mrs.  Beckford  and 
Mrs.  Knapp,  going  in  a  chaise  toward  the  jail.  He 
hastened  to  meet  them,  as  he  thought  it  not  proper  for 
them  to  go  in  at  that  time.  While  conversing  with  them 
near  the  jail,  he  received  two  distinct  messages  from 
Joseph,  that  he  wished  to  see  him.  He  thought  it  proper 
to  go :  he  then  went  to  Joseph's  cell,  and  while  there  it 
was  that  the  disclosures  wer$  made.  Before  Joseph  had 
finished  his  statement,  Phippen  came  to  the  door ;  he  waa 
soon  after  admitted.  A  short  interval  ensued,  and  they 
went  together  to  the  cell  of  Frank.  Mr.  Colman  went  in 
by  invitation  of  Phippen :  he  had  come  directly  from  the 
cell  of  Joseph,  where  he  had  for  the  first  time  learned  the 
incidents  of  the  tragedy.  He  was  incredulous  as  to  some 
of  the  facts  which  he  had  learned,  they  were  so  different 
ft  <>m  his  previous  impressions.  He  was  desirous  of  lj  now- 


412  SPEECHES   OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

ing  whether  he  could  place  confidence  in  what  Joseph  had 
told  him — he  therefore  put  the  questions  to  Frank,  as 
he  has  testified  before  you ;  in  answer  to  which,  Frank 
Knapp  informed  him, 

1.  "  That  the  murder  took  -place  between  ten  and  eleven 
o'clock." 

2.  "  That    Richard   Crowninshield   was    alone   in   the 
house." 

3.  "  That  he,  Frank  Knapp,  went  home  afterward." 

4.  "  That  the  club  was  deposited  under  the  steps  of  the 
Howard  Street  meeting-house,  and  under  the  part  nearest 
the  burying-ground,  in  a  rat-hole,"  &c. 

5.  "  That  the  dagger  or  daggers  had  been  worked  up  at 
the  factory." 

It  is  said  that  these  five  answers  just  fit  the  case ;  that 
they  are  just  what  was  wanted,  and  neither  more  nor  less. 
True,  they  are,  but  the  reason  is,  because  truth  always  fits ; 
truth  is  always  congruous,  and  agrees  with  itself.  Every 
truth  in  the  universe  agrees  with  every  other  truth  in  the 
universe ;  whereas  falsehoods  not  only  disagree  with  truths, 
but  usually  quarrel  among  themselves.  Surely  Mr.  Colman 
is  influenced  by  no  bias — no  prejudice ;  he  has  no  feelings 
to  warp  him — except  now,  he  is  contradicted,  he  may  feel 
an  interest  to  be  believed. 

If  you  believe  Mr.  Colman,  then  the  evidence  is  fairly 
in  the  case. 

I  shall  now  proceed  on  the  ground  that  you  do  believe 
Mr.  Colman. 

When  told  that  Joseph  had  determined  to  confess,  the 
defendant  said,  "  It  is  hard,  or  unfair,  that  Joseph  should 
have  the  benefit  of  confessing,  since  the  thing  was  done  for 
his  benefit."  What  thing  was  done  for  his  benefit  ?  Does 
not  this  carry  an  implication  of  the  guilt  of  the  defendant  ? 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         413 

Docs  it  not  show  that  he  had  a  knowledge  of  the  object 
and  history  of  the  murder  ? 

The  defendant  said,  "  he  told  Joseph,  when  he  proposed 
it,  that  it  was  a  silly  business,  and  would  get  us  into 
trouble."  He  knew,  then,  what  this  business  was;  he 
knew  that  Joseph  proposed  it,  and  that  he  agreed  to  it, 
else  he  could  not  get  us  into  trouble ;  he  understood  its 
bearing,  and  its  consequences.  Thus  much  was  said  under 
circumstances,  that  make  it  clearly  evidence  against  him, 
before  there  is  any  pretence  of  an  inducement  held  out. 
And  does  not  this  prove  him  to  have  had  a  knowledge  of 
the  conspiracy  ? 

He  knew  the  daggers  had  been  destroyed,  and  he  knew 
who  committed  the  murder.  How  could  he  have  innocently 
known  these  facts  ?  Why,  if  by  Richard's  story,  this  shows 
him  guilty  of  a  knowledge  of  the  murder,  and  of  the  con 
spiracy.  More  than  all,  he  knew  when  the  deed  was  done, 
and  that  he  went  home  afterward.  This  shows  his  parti 
cipation  in  that  deed.  "  Went  home  afterward." — Home, 
from  what  scene  ? — home,  from  what  fact  ? — home,  from 
what  transaction  f — home,  from  what  place  ?  This  con 
firms  the  supposition  that  the  prisoner  was  in  Brown  Street 
for  the  purposes  ascribed  to  him.  These  questions  were 
directly  put,  and  directly  answered.  He  does  not  intimate 
that  he  received  the  information  from  another.  Now,  if  he 
knows  the  time,  and  went  home  afterward,  and  does  not 
excuse  himself, — is  not  this  an  admission  that  he  had  a 
hand  in  this  murder  ?  Already  proved  to  be  a  conspirator 
in  the  murder,  he  now  confesses  that  he  knew  who  did  it — 
at  what  time  it  was  done,  was  himself  out  of  his  own  house 
at  the  time,  and  went  home  afterward.  Is  not  this  con 
clusive,  if  not  explained  ?  Then  comes  the  club.  He  told 
where  it  was.  This  is  like  possession  of  stolen  goods.  He 
is  charged  with  the  guilty  knowledge  of  this  concealment. 

35* 


±14         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

He  must  sftow,  not  say,  how  he  came  by  this  knowledge. 
If  a  man  be  found  with  stolen  goods,  he  must  prove  how 
he  came  by  them.  The  place  of  deposit  of  the  club  was 
premeditated  and  selected,  and  he  knew  where  it  was. 

Joseph  Knapp  was  an  accessory,  and  accessory  only ;  he 
knew  only  what  was  told  him.  But  the  prisoner  knew  the 
particular  spot  in  which  the  club  might  be  found.  This 
shows  his  knowledge  something  more  than  that  of  an  ac 
cessory. 

This  presumption  must  be  rebutted  by  evidence,  or  it 
stands  strong  against  him.  He  has  too  much  knowledge 
of  this  transaction,  to  have  come  innocently  by  it.  It  must 
stand  against  him  until  he  explains  it. 

This  testimony  of  Mr.  Colman  is  represented  as  new 
matter,  and  therefore  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  excite 
a  prejudice  against  it.  It  is  not  so.  How  little  is  there  in 
it,  after  all,  that  did  not  appear  from  other  sources !  It  is 
mainly  confirmatory.  Compare  what  you  learn  from  this 
confession,  with  what  you  before  knew. 

As  to  its  being  proposed  by  Joseph :  was  not  that  true  ? 

As  to  Richard's  being  alone,  &c.  in  the  house :  was  not 
that  true? 

As  to  the  daggers :  was  not  that  true? 

As  to  the  time  of  the  murder :  was  not  that  true  ? 

As  to  his  being  out  that  night :  was  not  that  true? 

As  to  his  returning  afterward :  was  not  that  true  ? 

As  to  the  club  :  was  not  that  true  ? 

So  this  information  confirms  what  was  known  before,  and 
fully  confirms  it. 

One  word,  as  to  the  interview  between  Mr.  Colman  and 
Phippen  Knapp  on  the  turnpike.  It  is  said  that  Mr.  Col- 
man's  conduct  in  this  matter  is  inconsistent  with  his  testi 
mony.  There  does  not  appear  to  me  to  be  any  incon 
sistency.  He  tells  you  that  his  object  was  to  save  Joseph, 


ON  THE   TRIAL   OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.  415 

and  to  hurt  no  one ;  and  least  of  all  the  prisoner  at  the 
bar.  He  had,  probably,  told  Mr.  White  the  substance  of 
what  he  heard  at  the  prison.  He  had  probably  told  him 
that  Frank  confirmed  what  Joseph  had  confessed.  He  was 
unwilling  to  be  the  instrument  of  harm  to  Frank.  He 
therefore,  at  the  request  of  Phippen  Knapp,  wrote  a  note  to 
Mr.  White,  requesting  him  to  consider  Joseph  as  authority 
for  the  information  he  had  received.  He  tells  you  that  this 
is  the  only  thing  he  has  to  regret ;  as  it  may  seem  to  be  an 
evasion, — as  he  doubts  whether  it  was  entirely  correct.  If 
it  was  an  evasion,  if  it  was  a  deviation,  if  it  was  an  error, 
it  was  an  error  of  mercy ;  an  error  of  kindness ;  an  error 
that  proves  he  had  no  hostility  to  the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 
It  does  not  in  the  least  vary  his  testimony,  or  affect  its 
correctness.  Gentlemen,  I  look  on  the  evidence  of  Mr. 
Colman  as  highly  important ;  not  as  bringing  into  the 
cause  new  facts,  but  as  confirming,  in  a  very  satisfactory 
manner,  other  evidence.  It  is  incredible,  that  he  can  be 
false,  and  that  he  is  seeking  the  prisoner's  life  through 
false  swearing.  If  he  is  true,  it  is  incredible  that  the  pri 
soner  can  be  innocent. 

Gentlemen,  I  have  gone  through  with  the  evidence  in 
this  case,  and  have  endeavored  to  state  it  plainly  and 
fairly,  before  you.  I  think  there  are  conclusions  to  be 
drawn  from  it,  which  you  cannot  doubt.  I  think  you  can 
not  doubt,  that  there  was  a  conspiracy  formed  for  the  pur 
pose  of  committing  this  murder,  and  who  the  conspirators 
were. 

That  you  cannot  doubt,  that  the  Crowninshields  and  the 
Knapps  were  the  parties  in  this  conspiracy. 

That  you  cannot  doubt,  that  the  prisoner  at  the  bar 
knew  that  the  murder  was  to  be  done  on  the  night  of  the 
6th  of  April. 

That  you  cannot  doubt,  that  the  murderers  of  Captain 


416  SPEECHES    OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

White  were  the  suspicious  persons  seen  in  and  about 
Brown  Street  on  that  night. 

That  you  cannot  doubt,  that  Richard  Crowninshield  was 
the  perpetrator  of  that  crime. 

That  you  cannot  doubt,  that  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  was 
in  Brown  Street  on  that  night. 

If  there,  then  it  must  be  by  agreement — to  counte 
nance,  to  aid  the  perpetrator.  And  if  so,  then  he  is 
guilty  as  PRINCIPAL. 

Gentlemen,  your  whole  concern  should  be  to  do  your 
duty,  and  leave  consequences  to  take  care  of  themselves. 
You  will  receive  the  law  from  the  court.  Your  verdict,  it 
is  true,  may  endanger  the  prisoner's  life ;  but  then  it  is  to 
save  other  lives.  If  the  prisoner's  guilt  has  been  shown 
and  proved  beyond  all  reasonable  doubt,  you  will  convict 
him.  If  such  reasonable  doubts  of  guilt  still  remain,  you 
will  acquit  him.  You  are  the  judges  of  the  whole  case. 
You  owe  a  duty  to  the  public,  as  well  as  to  the  prisoner  at 
the  bar.  You  cannot  presume  to  be  wiser  than  the  law. 
Yrour  duty  is  a  plain,  straight-forward  one.  Doubtless, 
we  would  all  judge  him  in  mercy.  Toward  him,  as  an 
individual,  the  law  inculcates  no  hostility ;  but  toward 
him,  if  proved  to  be  a  murderer,  the  law,  and  the  oaths 
you  have  taken,  and  public  justice,  demand  that  you  do 
your  duty. 

With  consciences  satisfied  with  the  discharge  of  duty, 
no  consequences  can  harm  you.  There  is  no  evil  that  we 
cannot  either  face  or  fly  from,  but  the  consciousness  of 
duty  disregarded. 

A  sense  of  duty  pursues  us  ever.  It  is  omnipresent, 
like  the  Deity.  If  we  take  to  ourselves  the  wings  of 
the  morning  and  dwell  in  the  utmost  parts  of  the  seas, 
duty  performed,  or  duty  violated,  is  still  with  us,  for  our 
happiness,  or  our  misery.  If  we  say  the  darkness  shall 


ON  THE  TRIAL  OF  J.  F.  KNAPP.         417 

cover  us,  in  the  darkness  as  in  the  light,  our  obligations 
are  yet  with  us.  We  cannot  escape  their  power,  nor  fly 
from  their  presence.  They  are  with  us  in  this  life,  will  be 
with  us  at  its  close ;  and  in  that  scene  of  inconceivable 
solemnity,  which  lies  yet  farther  onward,  we  shall  still 
find  ourselves  surrounded  by  the  consciousness  of  duty,  to 
pain  us  wherever  it  has  been  violated,  and  to  console  us 
so  far  as  God  may  have  given  us  grace  to  perform  it. 


ARGUMENT   OF   MR.  WEBSTER 

IN  THE  GOODRIDGE  CASE 


THIS  argument  was  addressed  to  a  jury  in  April,  1817, 
on  the  occasion  of  the  trial  of  Levi  and  Laban  Kenniston, 
in  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court  of  the  Commonwealth  of 
Massachusetts,  held  at  Ipswich,  in  the  county  of  Essex,  for 
an  alleged  assault  and  robbery  by  Levi  and  Laban,  on  the 
person  of  Major  Elijah  Putnam  Goodridge,  of  Bangor, 
Maine. 

It  was  true  (Mr.  Webster  said)  that  the  offence  charged 
was  not  capital;  but  perhaps  this  could  hardly  be  con 
sidered  as  favorable  to  the  defendants.  To  those  who  are 
guilty,  and  without  hope  of  escape,  no  doubt  the  lightness 
of  the  penalty  of  transgression  gives  consolation.  But  if 
the  defendants  were  innocent,  it  was  more  natural  for  them 
to  be  thinking  upon  what  they  had  lost,  by  that  alteration 
of  the  law  which  had  left  highway  robbery  no  longer  capital, 
than  upon  what  the  guilty  might  gain  by  it.  They  had  lost 
those  great  privileges,  in  their  trial,  which  the  law  allows, 
in  capital  cases,  for  the  protection  of  innocence  against 
unfounded  accusation.  They  have  lost  the  right  of  being 
previously  furnished  with  a  copy  of  the  indictment,  and  a 
list  of  the  Government's  witnesses.  They  have  lost  the 
right  of  peremptory  challenge ;  and,  notwithstanding  the 
prejudices  which  they  know  have  been  excited  against  them, 
they  must  show  legal  cause  of  challenge,  in  each  individual 

418 


ARGUMENT   IN   THE    GOODRIDGE   CASE.  419 

call,  or  else  take  the  jury  as  they  find  it.  They  have  lost 
the  benefit  of  the  assignment  of  counsel  by  the  court.  They 
have  lost  the  benefit  of  the  Commonwealth's  process  to 
bring  in  witnesses  in  their  behalf.  When  to  these  circum 
stances  it  was  added  that  they  were  sfrangers,  in  a  great 
degree  without  friends,  and  without  the  means  for  pre 
paring  their  defence,  it  was  evident  they  must  take  theii 
trial  under  great  disadvantages. 

Mr.  Webster  then  called  the-  attention  of  the  jury  to 
those  circumstances  which  he  thought  could  not  but  cast 
doubts  on  the  story  of  the  prosecutor. 

In  the  first  place,  it  was  impossible  to  believe  a  robbery 
of  this  sort  to  have  been  committed  by  three  or  four  men. 
without  previous  arrangement  and  concert,  and  of  course 
without  the  knowledge  of  the  fact  that  Goodridge  would 
be  there,  and  that  he  had  money.  They  did  not  go  on  the 
highway,  in  such  a  place,  in  a  cold  December's  night,  for 
the  general  purpose  of  attacking  the  first  passenger,  run 
ning  the  chance  of  his  being  somebody  who  had  money.  It 
was  not  easy  to  believe  that  a  gang  of  robbers  existed,  that 
they  acted  systematically,  communicating  intelligence  to 
one  another,  and  meeting  and  dispersing  as  occasion  re 
quired,  and  that  this  gang  had  their  head-quarters  in  such 
a  place  as  Newburyport.  No  town  is  more  distinguished 
for  the  correctness  of  the  general  habits  of  its  citizens ; 
and  it  is  of  such  a  size  that  every  man  in  it  may  be  known 
to  all  the  rest.  The  pursuits,  occupations,  and  habits  of 
every  person  within  it  are  within  the  observation  of  his 
neighbors.  A  suspicious  stranger  would  be  instantly  ob 
served,  and  all  his  movements  could  be  easily  traced.  This 
is  not  the  place  to  be  the  general  rendezvous  of  a  gang  of 
robbers.  Offenders  of  this  sort  hang  on  the  skirts  of  great 
cities.  From  the  commission  of  their  crimes  they  hasten 
into  the  crowd,  and  hide  themselves  in  the  populousness  of 


420  SPEECHES   OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

great  cities.  If  it  were  wholly  improbable  that  a  gang 
existed  in  such  a  place  for  the  purpose  of  general  plunder, 
the  next  inquiry  was,  Was  there  any  reason  to  think  that 
there  had  been  a  special  or  particular  combination,  for  the 
single  purpose  or  robbing  the  prosecutor  ?  Now,  it  was 
material  to  observe,  that  not  only  was  there  no  evidence 
of  any  such  combination,  but  also  that  circumstances  did 
exist  which  rendered  it  next  to  impossible  that  the  defend 
ants  could  have  been  parties  to  such  a  combination,  or  even 
that  they  could  have  any  knowledge  of  the  existence  of 
any  such  man  as  Goodridge,  or  that  any  person,  with 
money,  was  expected  to  come  from  the  eastward,  and  to 
be  near  Essex  bridge,  at  or  about  nine  o'clock  that  evening. 
One  of  the  defendants  had  been  for  some  weeks  in 
Newburyport — the  other  passed  the  bridge  from  New 
Hampshire,  at  twelve  o'clock,  on  the  19th.  At  this  time, 
Goodridge  had  not  yet  arrived  at  Exeter,  twelve  or  four 
teen  miles  from  the  bridge.  How,  then,  could  either  of 
the  defendants  know  that  he  was  coming  ?  Besides,  he 
says  that  nobody  knew,  on  the  road,  that  he  had  money, 
as  far  as  he  knows,  and  nothing  .happened  till  he  reached 
Exeter,  according  to  his  account,  from  which  it  might  be 
conjectured  that  he  carried  money.  Here,  as  he  relates 
it,  it  became  known  that  he  had  pistols ;  and  he  must 
wish  you  to  infer,  that  the  plan  to  rob  him  was  laid  here, 
at  Exeter,  by  some  of  the  persons  who  inferred  that  he 
had  money  from  his  being  armed.  Who  were  these  per 
sons  ?  Certainly  not  the  defendants,  or  either  of  them. 
Certainly  not  Taber.  Certainly  not  Jackman.  Were 
they  persons  of  suspicious  character  ?  Was  he  in  a  house 
of  a  suspicious  character  ?  On  this  point  he  gives  us  no 
information.  He  has  either  not  taken  the  pains  to  in- 
jiire,  or  he  chooses  not  to  communicate  the  result  of  his 
inquiries.  Yet  nothing  could  be  more  important,  since  he 


ARGUMENT    IN   THE   GOODRIDGE    CASE.  421 

seems  compelled  to  lay  the  scene  of  the  plot  against  him 
at  Exeter,  than  to  know  who  the  persons  were  that  ao 
saw,  or  that  saw  him,  at  that  place.  On  the  face  of  the 
facts  now  proved,  nothing  could  be  more  improbable  than 
that  the  plan  of  robbery  was  concerted  at  Exeter.  If  so, 
why  should  those  who  concerted  send  forward  to  New- 
buryport  to  engage  the  defendants,  especially  as  they  did 
not  know  that  they  were  there  ?  What  should  induce  any 
persons  so  suddenly  to  apply  to  the  defendants  to  assist  in 
a  robbery  ?  There  was  nothing  in  their  personal  charac 
ter  or  previous  history  that  should  induce  this. 

Nor  was  there  time  for  all  this.  If  the  prosecutor  had 
not  lingered  on  the  road,  for  reasons  not  yet  discovered, 
he  must  have  been  in  Newburyport  long  before  the  time  at 
which  he  states  the  robbery  to  have  been  committed. 
How,  then,  could  any  one  expect  to  leave  Exeter,  come  to 
Newburyport,  fifteen  miles,  there  look  out  for  and  find  out 
assistants  for  a  highway  robbery,  and  get  back  two  miles 
to  a  convenient  place  for  the  commission  of  the  crime  ? 
That  anybody  should  have  undertaken  to  act  thus,  was 
wholly  improbable ;  and  in  point  of  fact  there  is  not  the 
least  proof  of  anybody's  travelling,  that  afternoon,  from 
Exeter  to  Newburyport,  or  of  any  person  who  was  at  the 
tavern  at  Exeter  having  left  it  that  afternoon.  In  all 
probability,  nothing  of  this  sort  could  have  taken  place 
without  being  capable  of  detection  and  proof.  In  every 
particular  the  prosecutor  has  wholly  failed  to  show  the 
least  probability  of  a  plan  to  rob  him  having  been  laid  at 
Exeter. 

But  how  comes  it,  that  Goodridge  was  near  or  quite 
four  hours  and  a  half  in  travelling  a  distance  which  might 
have  been  travelled  in  two  hours  or  two  hours  and  a  half? 
He  says  he  missed  his  way,  and  went  the  Salisbury  road. 
But  some  of  the  jury  know,  that  this  could  not  have 

86 


422         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

delayed  him  more  than  five  or  ten  minutes.  It  would 
be  well  to  be  able  to  give  some  better  account  of  this 
delay. 

Failing,  as  he  seems  to  do,  to  create  any  belief  that  a 
plan  to  rob  him  was  fixed  at  Exeter,  the  prosecutor  goes 
back  to  Alfred,  and  says  he  saw  there  a  man  whom  Taber 
resembles.  But  Taber  is  proved  to  have  been  at  that 
time,  and  at  the  time  of  the  robbery,  in  Boston.  This  is 
proved  beyond  question.  It  is  so  certain,  that  the  soli 
citor  has  non  pressed  the  indictment  against  him. 

There  is  an  end,  then,  of  all  pretence  of  the  adoption 
of  a  scheme  of  robbery  at  Alfred :  this  leaves  the  pro 
secutor  altogether  unable  to  point  out  any  manner  in 
which  it  should  become  known  that  he  had  money,  or  in 
which  a  design  to  rob  him  should  originate. 

It  was  next  to  be  considered  whether  the  prosecutor's 
story  was  either  natural  or  consistent.  But,  in  the 
threshold  of  the  inquiry,  every  one  puts  the  question, 
What  motive  had  the  prosecutor  to  be  guilty  of  the 
abominable  conduct  of  feigning  a  robbery?  It  is  diffi 
cult  to  assign  motives.  The  jury  did  not  know  enough 
of  his  character  or  circumstances.  Such  things  had 
happened,  and  might  happen  again.  Suppose  he  owed 
money  in  Boston,  and  had  it  not  to  pay  ?  Who  knows 
how  high  he  might  estimate  the  value  of  a  plausible 
apology  ?  Some  men  have  also  a  whimsical  ambition  of 
distinction.  There  is  no  end  to  the  variety  of  modes  in 
which  human  vanity  exhibits  itself.  A  story  of  this  na 
ture  excites  the  public  sympathy.  It  attracts  general  at 
tention.  It  causes  the  name  of  the  prosecutor  to  be 
celebrated  as  a  man  who  has  been  attacked,  and,  after  a 
manly  resistance,  overcome  by  robbers,  and  who  has  re 
newed  his  resistance  as  soon  as  returning  life  and  sensa 
tion  enabled  him,  and,  after  a  second  conflict,  has  been 


ARGUMENT   IN   THE    GOODRIDGE    CASE.  423 

quite  subdued,  beaten  and  bruised  out  of  all  sense  and 
sensation,  and  finally  left  for  dead  on  the  field.  It  is  not 
easy  to  say  how  far  such  motives,  trifling  and  ridiculous  as 
most  men  would  think  them,  might  influence  the  prose 
cutor,  when  connected  with  any  expectation  of  favor  or  in 
dulgence,  if  he  wanted  such,  from  his  creditors.  It  was 
to  be  remembered,  that  he  probably  did  not  see  all  the 
consequences  of  his  conduct,  if  his  robbery  be  a  pretence. 
He  might  not  intend  to  prosecute  anybody.  But  he  pro 
bably  found,  and  indeed  there  is  evidence  to  show,  that  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  do  something  to  find  out  the 
authors  of  the  alleged  robbery.  He  manifested  no  par 
ticular  zeal  on  this  subject.  He  was  in  no  haste.  He 
appears  rather  to  have  been  pressed  by  others  to  do  that 
which  we  should  suppose  he  would  be  most  earnest  to  do, 
the  earliest  moment. 

But  could  he  so  seriously  wound  himself  ?  could  he  or 
would  he  shoot  a  pistol-bullet  through  his  hand,  in  order  to 
render  the  robbery  probable,  and  to  obtain  belief  in  his 
story  ?  All  exhibitions  are  subject  to  accidents.  Whether 
they  are  serious  or  farcical,  they  may,  in  some  particulars, 
not  proceed  exactly  as  they  are  designed  to  do.  If  we 
knew  that  this  shot  through  the  hand,  if  made  by  him 
self,  must  have  been  intentionally  made  by  himself,  it  would 
be  a  circumstance  of  greater  weight.  The  bullet  went 
through  the  sleeve  of  his  coat.  He  might  intend  it 
should  have  gone  through  nothing  else.  It  was  quite  cer 
tain  he  did  not  receive  this  wound  in  the  way  he  described. 
He  says  he  was  pulling  or  thrusting  aside  the  robber's 
pistol,  and  while  his  hand  was  on  it,  it  was  fired,  and  the 
contents  passed  through  his  hand.  This  could  not  have 
been  so,  because  no  part  of  the  contents  went  through  the 
hand,  except  the  ball.  There  was  powder  on  the  sleeve 
of  his  coat,  and  from  the  appearance  one  would  think  the 


424  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

pistol  to  have  been  three  or  four  feet  from  the  hand  when 
fired.  The  fact  of  the  pistol-bullet  being  fired  through  the 
hand  is  doubtless  a  circumstance  of  weight.  It  may  not 
be  easy  to  account  for  it ;  but  it  is  to  be  weighed  with  other 
circumstances. 

It  was  most  extraordinary,  that,  in  the  whole  case,  the 
prosecutor  should  prove  hardly  any  fact  in  any  way  but  by 
his  own  oath.  He  chooses  to  trust  every  thing  on  his  own 
credit  with  the  jury.  Had  he  the  money  with  him,  which 
he  mentions  ?  If  so,  his  clerks  or  persons  connected  with 
him  in  business  must  have  known  it ;  yet  no  witness  is  pro 
duced.  Nothing  can  be  more  important  than  to  prove  that 
he  had  the  money.  Yet  he  does  not  prove  it.  Why  should 
he  leave  this  essential  fact  without  further  support  ?  He 
is  not  surprised  with  this  defence :  he  knew  what  it  would 
be.  He  knew  that  nothing  could  be  more  important  than 
to  prove  that  in  truth  he  did  possess  the  money  which  he 
says  he  lost ;  yet  he  does  not  prove  it.  All  that  he  saw, 
and  all  that  he  did,  and  every  thing  that  occurred  to  him 
until  after  the  alleged  robbery,  rests  solely  on  his  own 
credit.  He  does  not  see  fit  to  corroborate  any  fact  by  the 
testimony  of  any  witness.  So  he  went  to  New  York  to 
arrest  Jackman.  He  did  arrest  him.  He  swears  positively 
that  he  found  in  his  possession  papers  which  he  lost  at  the 
time  of  the  robbery ;  yet  he  neither  produces  the  papers 
themselves,  nor  the  persons  who  assisted  in  the  search. 

In  like  manner  he  represents  his  intercourse  with  Tabei 
at  Boston.  Taber,  he  says,  made  certain  confessions 
They  made  a  bargain  for  a  disclosure  or  confession  on  on« 
side,  and  a  reward  on  the  other.  But  no  one  heard  these 
confessions  except  Goodridge  himself.  Taber  now  con 
fronts  him,  and  pronounces  this  part  of  the  story  to  be 
wholly  false;  and  there  is  nobody  who  can  support  the 
prosecutor. 


ARGUMENT   IN   THE    GOODRIDGE   CASE.  425 

A  jury  cannot  too  seriously  reflect  on  this  part  of  the 
case.  There  are  many  most  important  allegations  of  fact, 
which,  if  true,  could  easily  be  shown  by  other  witnesses, 
and  yet  are  not  so  shown. 

How  came  Mr.  Goodridge  to  set  out  from  Bangor,  armed 
in  this  formal  and  formidable  manner  ?  How  came  he  to 
be  so  apprehensive  of  a  robbery  ?  The  reason  he  gives  is 
completely  ridiculous.  As  the  foundation  of  his  alarm,  he 
tells  a  story  of  a  robbery  which  he  had  heard  of,  but  which, 
as  far  as  appears,  no  one  else  ever  heard  of;  and  the  story 
itself  is  so  perfectly  absurd,  it  is  difficult  to  resist  the  belief 
that  it  was  the  product  of  his  imagination  at  the  moment. 
He  seems  to  have  been  a  little  too  confident  that  an  attempt 
would  be  made  to  rob  him.  The  manner  in  which  he  carried 
his  money,  as  he  says,  indicated  a  strong  expectation  of 
this  sort.  His  gold  he  wrapped  in  a  cambric  cloth,  put  it 
into  a  shot-bag,  and  then  into  his  portmanteau.  One 
parcel  of  bills,  of  a  hundred  dollars  in  amount,  he  put  into 
his  pocket-book ;  another,  of  somewhat  more  than  a  thou 
sand  dollars,  he  carried  next  his  person,  underneath  all 
his  clothes.  Having  disposed  of  his  money  in  this  way, 
and  armed  himself  with  two  good  pistols,  he  set  out  from 
Bangor.  The  jury  would  judge  whether  this  extraordinary 
care  of  his  money,  and  this  formal  arming  of  himself  to 
defend  it,  did  not  appear  a  good  deal  suspicious. 

He  stated  that  he  did  not  travel  in  the  night ;  that  he 
would  not  so  much  expose  himself  to  robbers.  He  said 
that,  when  he  came  near  Alfred,  he  did  not  go  into  the 
village,  but  stopped  a  few  miles  short,  because  night  was 
coming  on,  and  he  would  not  trust  himself  and  his  money 
out  at  night.  He  represents  himself  to  have  observed  this 
rule  constantly  and  invariably  until  he  got  to  Exeter.  Yet, 
when  the  time  came  for  the  robbery,  be  was  found  out  at 
night.  He  left  Exeter  about  sunset,  intending  to  go  to 

36* 


426  SPEECHES   OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

Newburyport,  fifteen  miles  distant,  that  evening.  When 
he  is  asked  how  this  should  happen,  he  says  he  had  no  fear 
of  robbers  after  he  left  the  District  of  Maine.  He  thought 
himself  quite  safe  when  he  arrived  at  Exeter.  Yet  he  told 
the  jury  that  at  Exeter  he  thought  it  necessary  to  load  his 
pistol  afresh.  He  asked  for  a  private  room  at  the  inn.  He 
told  the  persons  in  attendance  that  he  wished  such  a  room 
for  the  purpose  of  changing  his  clothes.  He  charged  them 
not  to  suffer  him  to  be  interrupted.  But  he  says  his  object 
was  not  to  change  his  dress,  but  to  put  new  loading  into  his 
pistol.  What  sort  of  a  story  is  this  ? 

He  says  he  now  felt  himself  out  of  all  danger  from  rob 
bers,  and  was  therefore  willing  to  travel  at  night.  At  the 
same  time,  he  thought  himself  in  very  great  danger  from 
robbers,  and  therefore  took  the  utmost  pains  to  keep  his 
pistols  well  loaded  and  in  good  order.  To  account  for  the 
pains  he  took  about  loading  his  pistols  at  Exeter,  he  says 
it  was  his  invariable  practice,  every  day  after  he  left  Ban- 
gor,  to  discharge  and  load  again  one  or  both  of  his  pistols ; 
that  he  never  missed  doing  this ;  that  he  avoided  doing  it 
at  the  inns,  lest  he  should  create  suspicion,  but  that  he  did 
it,  while  alone,  on  the  road,  every  day. 

How  far  this  was  probable  the  jury  would  judge.  It 
would  be  observed  that  he  gave  up  his  habits  of  caution  as 
he  approached  the  place  of  the  robbery.  He  then  loaded 
his  pistols  at  the  tavern,  where  persons  might  and  did  see 
him ;  and  he  then  also  travelled  in  the  night.  He  passed 
the  bridge  over  Merrimack  River  a  few  minutes  before 
nine  o'clock.  He  was  now  at  a  part  of  his  progress  where 
he  was  within  the  observation  of  other  witnesses,  and 
something  could  be  known  of  him  besides  what  he  told  of 
himself.  Immediately  after  him  passed  the  two  persons 
with  their  wagons — Shaw  and  Keyser.  Close  upon  them 
followed  the  mail-stage.  Now,  these  wagons  and  the  stage 


ARGUMENT  IN  THE   GOODRIDGE   CASE.  427 

must  have  passed  within  three  rods,  at  most,  of  Goodridge, 
at  the  very  time  of  the  robbery.  They  must  have  been 
very  near  the  spot,  the  very  moment  of  the  attack ;  and 
if  he  was  under  the  robbers'  hands  as  long  as  he  repre 
sents,  or  if  they  stayed  on  the  spot  long  enough  to  do  half 
what  he  says  they  did  do,  they  must  have  been  there 
when  the  wagons  and  the  stage  passed.  At  any  rate,  it  is 
next  to  impossible,  by  any  computation  of  time,  to  put 
these  carriages  so  far  from  the  spot,  as  that  the  drivers 
should  not  have  heard  the  cry  of  murder,  which  he  says  he 
raised,  or  the  report  of  the  two  pistols,  which  he  says  were 
discharged.  In  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  or  an  hour,  he 
returned,  and  repassed  the -bridge. 

The  jury  would  next  naturally  look  to  the  appearances 
exhibited  on  the  field,  after  the  robbery.  The  portman 
teau  was  there.  The  witnesses  say,  that  the  straps  which 
fastened  it  to  the  saddle  had  been  neither  cut  nor  broken. 
They  were  carefully  uubuckled.  This  was  very  con 
siderate  for  robbers.  It  had  been  opened,  and  its  con 
tents  were  scattered  about  the  field.  The  pocket-book, 
too,  had  been  opened,  and  many  papers  it  contained  found 
on  the  ground.  Nothing  valuable  was  lost  but  money. 
The  robbers  did  not  think  it  well  to  go  off  at  once  with 
the  portmanteau  and  the  pocket-book.  The  place  was  se 
secure,  so  remote,  so  unfrequented  —  they  were  so  fai 
from  the  highway,  at  least  one  full  rod — there  were  so 
few  persons  passing,  probably  not  more  than  four  or  five 
then  in  the  road,  within  hearing  of  the  pistols  and  the 
cries  of  Goodridge — there  being,  too,  not  above  five  or 
six  dwelling-houses,  full  of  people,  within  the  hearing  of 
the  report  of  a  pistol ; — these  circumstances  were  all  so 
favorable  to  their  safety,  that  the  robbers  sat  down  to  look 
over  the  prosecutor's  papers,  carefully  examined  the  con 
tents  of  his  pocket-book  and  portmanteau,  and  took  only 


428  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

the  things  which  they  needed  !  There  was  money  belong 
ing  to  other  persons.  The  robbers  did  not  take  it.  They 
found  out  it  was  not  the  prosecutor's,  and  left  it.  It  may 
be  said  to  be  favorable  to  the  prosecutor's  story,  that  the 
money  which  did  not  belong  to  him,  and  the  plunder  of 
which  would  seem  to  be  the  most  probable  inducement  he 
could  have  to  feign  a  robbery,  was  not  taken.  But  the 
jury  would  consider  whether  this  circumstance  did  not  bear 
quite  as  strong  the  other  way,  and  whether  they  can  be 
lieve  that  robbers  could  have  left  this  money  either  from 
accident  or  design. 

The  robbers,  by  Goodridge's  account,  were  extremely 
careful  to  search  his  person.  Having  found  money  in  his 
portmanteau  and  in  his  pocket-book,  they  still  forthwith 
stripped  him  to  the  skin,  and  searched  until  they  found 
the  sum  which  had  been  so  carefully  deposited  under  his 
clothes.  Was  it  likely,  that,  having  found  money  in  the 
places  where  it  is  ordinarily  carried,  robbers  should  pro 
ceed  to  search  for  more,  where  they  had  no  reason  to  sup 
pose  more  would  be  found  ?  Goodridge  says  that  no 
person  knew  of  his  having  put  his  bills  in  that  situation. 
On  the  first  attack,  however,  they  proceeded  to  open  one 
garment  after  another,  until  they  penetrated  to  the  trea 
sure,  which  was  beneath  them  all. 

The  testimony  of  Mr.  Howard  was  material.  He  exa 
mined  Goodridge's  pistol,  which  was  found  on  the  spot, 
and  thinks  it  had  not  been  fired  at  all.  If  this  be  so,  it 
would  follow  that  the  wound  through  the  hand  was  not 
made  by  this  pistol ;  but,  then,  as  the  pistol  was  then  dis 
charged,  if  it  had  not  been  fired,  he  is  not  correct  in 
swearing  that  he  fired  it  at  the  robbers,  nor  could  it  have 
been  loaded  at  Exeter,  as  he  testified. 

In  the  whole  case,  there  was  nothing  perhaps  more  de 
serving  consideration,  than  the  prosecutor's  statement  of 


ARGUMENT   IN  THE   GOODRIDGE   CASE.  429 

the  violence  which  the  robbers  used  toward  him.  He  says 
he  was  struck  with  a  heavy  club,  on  the  back  part  of  his 
head.  He  fell  senseless  to  the  ground.  Three  or  four 
rough-handed  ruffians  then  dragged  him  to  the  fence,  and 
through  it  or  over  it,  with  such  force  as  to  break  one  of 
the  boards.  They  then  plundered  his  money.  Presently 
he  came  to  his  senses ;  perceived  his  situation ;  saw  one 
of  the  robbers  sitting  or  standing  near:  he  valiantly 
sprung  upon,  and  would  have  overcome  him,  but  the  ruf 
fian  called  out  for  his  comrades,  who  returned,  and  all 
together  they  renewed  their  attack  upon,  subdued  him, 
and  redoubled  their  violence.  They  struck  him  heavy 
blows ;  they  threw  him  violently  to  the  ground ;  the^ 
kicked  him  in  the  side ;  they  choked  him ;  one  of  them, 
to  use  his  own  words,  jumped  upon  his  breast.  They  left 
him  only  when  they  supposed  they  had  killed  him.  He 
went  back  to  Pearson's,  at  the  bridge,  in  a  state  of  de 
lirium,  and  it  was  several  hours  before  his  recollection 
came  to  him.  This  is  his  account.  Now,  in  point  of  fact, 
it  was  certain  that  on  no  part  of  his  person  was  there  the 
least  mark  of  this  beating  and  wounding.  The  blow  on 
the  head,  which  brought  him  senseless  to  the  ground, 
neither  broke  the  skin,  nor  caused  any  tumor,  nor  left  any 
mark  whatever.  He  fell  from  his  horse  on  the  frozen 
ground,  without  any  appearance  of  injury.  He  was  drawn 
through  or  over  the  fence  with  such  force  as  to  break  the 
rail,  but  not  at  all  to  leave  any  wound  or  scratch  on  him. 
A  second  time  he  is  knocked  down,  kicked,  stamped 
upon,  choked,  and  in  every  way  abused  and  beaten  till 
sense  had  departed,  and  the  breath  of  life  hardly  re 
mained  ;  and  yet  no  wound,  bruise,  discoloration,  or  mark 
of  injury,  was  found  to  result  from  all  this.  Except  the 
wound  in  his  hand,  and  a  few  slight  punctures  in  his  left 
arm,  apparently  made  with  his  own  penknife,  which  was 


480  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

found  open  on  the  spot,  there  was  no  wound  or  mark 
which  the  surgeons,  upon  repeated  examinations,  could 
anywhere  discover.  This  was  a  story  not  to  be  believed. 
No  matter  who  tells  it,  it  is  so  impossible  to  be  true,  that 
all  belief  is  set  at  defiance.  No  man  can  believe  it.  All 
this  tale  of  blows  which  left  no  marks,  and  of  wounds  which 
could  not  be  discovered,  must  be  the  work  of  imagination. 
If  the  jury  could  believe  that  he  was  robbed,  it  was  im 
possible  they  should  or  could  believe  his  account  of  the 
manner  of  it. 

With  respect,  next,  to  delirium.  The  jury  had  heard 
the  physicians.  Two  of  them  had  no  doubt  it  was  all 
feigned.  Dr.  Spofford  had  spoken  in  a  more  qualified  man 
ner,  but  it  was  very  evident  his  opinion  agreed  with  theirs. 
In  the  height  of  his  raving,  the  physician  who  was  present 
said  to  others,  that  he  could  find  nothing  the  matter  of  the 
man,  and  that  his  pulse  was  perfectly  regular.  But  con 
sider  the  facts  which  Dr.  Balch  testifies.  He  suspected  the 
whole  of  this  illness  and  delirium  to  be  feigned.  He  wished 
to  ascertain  the  truth.  While  he  or  others  was  present, 
Goodridge  appeared  to  be  in  the  greatest  pains  and  agony 
from  his  wounds.  He  could  not  turn  himself  in  bed,  nor 
be  turned  by  others,  without  infinite  distress.  His  mind, 
too,  was  as  much  disordered  as  his  body.  He  was  con 
stantly  raving  about  robbery  and  murder.  At  length  the 
physicians  and  others  withdrew,  and  left  him  alone  in  the 
room.  Dr.  Balch  returned  softly  to  the  door,  which  he  had 
left  partly  open,  and  there  he  had  a  full  view  of  his  patient, 
unobserved  by  him.  Goodridge  was  then  very  quiet.  His 
incoherent  exclamations  had  ceased.  Dr.  Balch  saw  him 
turn  over  in  bed  without  inconvenience.  Pretty  soon  he 
sat  up  in  bed,  and  adjusted  his  neckcloth  and  his  hair. 
Then,  hearing  footsteps  on  the  staircase,  he  instantly 
sunk  into  the  bed  again ;  his  pains  all  returned,  and  he 


AKGUMENT   IN   THE   GOODRIDGE   CASE.  431 

cried  out  against  robbers  and  murderers  as  loud  as  ever. 
Now,  these  facts  are  all  sworn  to  by  an  intelligent  witness, 
who  cannot  be  mistaken  in  them — a  respectable  physician, 
whose  veracity  or  accuracy  is  in  no  way  impeached  or 
questioned.  After  this,  it  was  difficult  to  retain  any  good 
opinion  of  the  prosecutor.  Robbed  or  not  robbed,  this 
was  his  conduct;  and  such  conduct  necessarily  takes  away 
all  claim  to  sympathy  and  respect.  The  jury  would  con 
sider  whether  it  did  not  also  take  away  all  right  to  be 
believed  in  any  thing.  For  if  they  should  be  of  opinion 
that  in  any  one  point  he  had  intentionally  misrepresented 
facts,  he  could  be  believed  in  nothing.  No  man  was  to  be 
convicted  on  the  testimony  of  a  witness  whom  the  jury  had 
found  wilfully  violating  the  truth  in  any  particular. 

The  next  part  of  the  case  was,  the  conduct  of  the  pro 
secutor,  in  attempting  to  find  out  the  robbers,  after  he  had 
recovered  from  his  illness.  He  suspected  Mr.  Pearson,  a 
very  honest,  respectable  man,  who  keeps  the  tavern  at  the 
bridge.  He  searched  his  house  and  premises.  He  sent  for 
a  conjurer  to  come,  with  his  metallic  rods  and  witch-hazel, 
to  find  the  stolen  money.  Goodridge  says  now  that  he 
thought  he  should  find  it,  if  the  conjurer's  instruments 
were  properly  prepared.  He  professes  to  have  full  faith 
in  the  art.  Was  this  folly,  or  fraud,  or  a  strange  mixture 
of  both  ?  Pretty  soon  after  the  last  search,  gold  pieces 
were  actually  found  near  Mr.  Pearson's  house,  in  the  man 
ner  stated  by  the  female  witness.  How  came  they  there  ? 
Did  the  robber  deposit  them  there  ?  That  is  not  possible. 
Did  he  accidentally  leave  them  there  ?  Why  should  not  a 
robber  take  as  good  care  of  his  money  as  others  ?  It  is 
certain,  too,  that  the  gold  pieces  were  not  put  there  at  the 
time  of  the  robbery,  because  the  ground  was  then  bare ; 
but  when  these  pieces  were  found,  there  were  several  inches 
of  snow  below  them.  When  Goodridge  searched  here  with 


432  SPEECHES    OP    DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

his  conjurer,  lie  was  on  this  spot,  alone  and  unobserved,  as 
he  thought.  Whether  he  did  not,  at  that  time,  drop  his 
gold  into  the  snow,  the  jury  will  judge.  When  he  came 
to  this  search,  he  proposed  something  very  ridiculous.  He 
proposed  that  all  persons  about  to  assist  in  the  search 
should  be  examined,  to  see  that  they  had  nothing  which 
they  could  put  into  Pearson's  possession,  for  the  purpose  of 
being  found  there.  But  how  was  this  examination  to  be  made  ? 
Why,  truly,  Goodridge  proposed  that  every  man  should  exa 
mine  himself,  and  that,  among  others,  he  would  examine 
himself,  till  he  was  satisfied  he  had  nothing  in  his  pockets, 
which  he  could  leave  at  Pearson's,  with  the  fraudulent  de 
sign  of  being  afterward  found  there,  as  evidence  against  Pear 
son.  What  construction  would  be  given  to  such  conduct  ? 

As  to  Jackman,  Goodridge  went  to  New  York  and 
arrested  him.  In  his  room  he  says  he  found  paper  cover 
ings  of  gold,  with  his  own  figures  on  them,  and  pieces  of 
an  old  and  useless  receipt,  which  he  can  identify,  and 
which  he  had  in  his  possession  at  the  time  of  the  robbery. 
He  found  these  things  lying  on  the  floor  in  Jackrnan's 
room.  What  should  induce  the  robbers,  when  they  left  all 
other  papers,  to  take  this  receipt?  and  what  should  induce 
Jackman  to  carry  it  to  New  York,  and  keep  it  with  the 
coverings  of  the  gold,  in  a  situation  where  it  was  likely  to 
be  found,  and  used  as  evidence  against  him  ? 

There  was  no  end  to  the  series  of  improbabilities  grow 
ing  out  of  the  prosecutor's  story. 

One  thing  especially  deserves  notice.  Wherever  Good 
ridge  searches,  he  always  finds  something ;  and  what  he 
finds,  he  always  can  identify  and  swear  to,  as  being  his. 
The  thing  found  has  always  some  marks  by  which  he 
Knows  it.  Yet  he  never  finds  much.  He  never  finds  the 
mass  of  his  lost  treasure.  He  finds  just  enough  to  be  evi 
dence,  and  no  more. 


ARGUMENT   IN   THE    GOODRIDGE   CASE.  433 

These  were  the  circumstances  which  tended  to  raise 
doubts  of  the  truth  of  the  prosecutor's  relation.  It  was 
for  the  jury  to  say,  whether  it  would  be  safe  to  convict 
any  man  for  this  robbery,  until  their  doubts  should  be 
cleared  up.  No  doubt  they  were  to  judge  him  candidly  : 
but  they  were  not  to  make  every  thing  yield  to  a  regard  to 
his  reputation,  or  a  desire  to  vindicate  him  from  the  sus 
picion  of  a  fraudulent  prosecution. 

He  stood  like  other  witnesses,  except  that  he  was  a  very 
interested  witness ;  and  he  must  hope  for  credit,  if  at  all, 
from  the  consistency  and  general  probability  of  the  facts 
to  which  he  testified.  The  jury  would  not  convict  the 
prisoners  to  save  the  prosecutor  from  disgrace.  He  had 
had  every  opportunity  of  making  out  his  case.  If  any 
person  in  the  State  could  have  corroborated  any  part  of 
his  story,  that  person  he  could  have  produced.  He  had 
had  the  benefit  of  full  time,  and  good  counsel,  and  of  the 
Commonwealth's  process  to  bring  in  his  witnesses.  More 
than  all,  he  had  had  an  opportunity  of  telling  his  own 
Btory,  with  the  simplicity  that  belongs  to  truth,  if  it  were 
true,  and  the  frankness  and  earnestness  of  an  honest  man, 
if  he  be  such.  It  was  for  the  jury  to  say,  under  their 
oaths,  how  he  had  acquitted  himself  in  these  particulars, 
and  whether  he  had  left  their  minds  free  of  doubt  about 
the  truth  of  his  narration. 

But  if  Goodridge  were  really  robbed,  was  there  satis 
factory  evidence  that  the  defendants  had  a  hand  in  the 
commission  of  this  offence  ?  The  evidence  relied  on  is  the 
finding  of  the  money  in  their  house.  It  appeared  that 
these  defendants  lived  together,  and,  with  a  sister,  con 
stituted  one  family.  Their  father  lived  in  another  part 
of  the  same  house,  and  with  his  wife  constituted  another 
and  distinct  family.  In  this  house,  some  six  weeks  after 

37 


434  SPEECHES   OF    DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

the  robbery,  the  prosecutor  made  a  search  ;  and  the  re 
sult  has  been  stated  by  the  witnesses.  Now,  if  the  money 
had  been  passed,  or  used  by  the  defendants,  it  might  have 
been  conclusive.  If  found  about  their  persons,  it  might 
have  been  very  strong  proof.  But,  under  the  circum 
stances  of  this  case,  the  mere  finding  of  money  in  their 
house,  and  that  only  in  places  where  the  prosecutor  had 
previously  been,  was  no  evidence  at  all.  With  respect  to 
the  gold  pieces,  it  was  certainly  true,  that  they  were  found 
in  Goodridge's  track.  They  were  found  only  where  h« 
had  been,  and  might  have  put  them. 

When  the  sheriff  was  in  the  house,  and  Goodridge  in 
the  cellar,  gold  was  found  in  the  cellar.  When  the  sheriff 
was  up  stairs,  and  Goodridge  in  the  rooms  below,  the 
sheriff  was  called  down  to  look  for  money  where  Good 
ridge  directed,  and  there  money  was  found.  As  to  the 
bill,  the  evidence  is  not  quite  so  clear.  Mr.  Leavitt  says 
he  found  a  bill,  in  a  drawer,  in  a  room  in  which  none  of 
the  party  had  before  been ;  that  he  thought  it  an  un- 
current  or  counterfeit  bill,  and  not  a  part  of  Goodridge's 
money,  and  left  it  where  he  found  it,  without  further 
notice.  An  hour  or  two  afterward,  Upton  perceived  a  bill 
in  the  same  drawer, — Goodridge  being  then  with  or  near 
him, — and  called  to  Leavitt.  Leavitt  told  him  that  he 
had  discovered  that  bill  before,  but  that  it  could  not  be 
Goodridge's.  The  bill  was  then  examined.  Leavitt  says 
he  looked  at  it,  and  saw  writing  on  the  back  of  it.  Upton 
says  he  looked  at  it,  and  saw  writing  on  the  back  of  it. 
He  says  also  that  it  was  shown  to  Goodridge,  who  exa 
mined  it  in  the  same  way  that  he  and  Leavitt  examined 
it.  None  of  the  party  at  this  time  suspected  it  to  be 
Goodridge's.  It  was  then  put  into  Leavitt's  pocket-book, 
where  it  remained  till  evening,  when  it  was  taken  out  at 


ARGUMENT    IN   THE   GOODRIDGE    CASE.  43<> 

tne  tavern ;  and  then  it  turned  out  to  be,  plainly  and 
clearly,  one  of  Goodridge's  bills,  and  had  the  name  of 
"  James  Poor,  Bangor,"  in  Goodridge's  own  handwriting, 
on  the  back  of  it.  The  first  thing  that  strikes  one,  in 
this  account,  is,  why  was  not  this  discovery  made  at  the 
time  ?  Goodridge  was  looking  for  bills,  as  well  as  gold. 
He  was  looking  for  Boston  bills — for  such  he  had  lost.  He 
was  looking  for  ten-dollar  bills — for  such  he  had  lost.  He 
was  looking  for  bills  which  he  could  recognise  and  identify. 
He  would,  therefore,  naturally  be  particularly  attentive  to 
any  writing  or  marks  upon  such  as  he  might  find.  Under 
these  circumstances,  a  bill  is  found  in  the  house  of  the 
supposed  robbers.  It  is  a  Boston  bill — it  is  a  ten-dollar 
bill — it  has  writing  on  the  back  of  it — that  writing  is  the 
name  of  his  town,  and  the  name  of  one  of  his  neighbors — 
more  than  all,  that  writing  is  his  own  handwriting  ! — 
notwithstanding  all  this,  neither  Goodridge,  nor  Upton, 
nor  the  sheriff,  examined  the  bill,  so  as  to  see  whether  it 
was  Goodridge's  money.  Notwithstanding  it  so  fully  re 
sembled,  in  all  points,  the  money  they  were  looking  for, 
and  notwithstanding  they  also  saw  writing  on  the  back  of 
it,  which  they  must  know,  if  they  read  it,  would  probably 
have  shown  where  the  bill  came  from,  yet  neither  of  them 
did  so  far  examine  it  as  to  see  any  proof  of  its  being 
Goodridge's.  This  was  hardly  to  be  believed.  It  must 
be  a  pretty  strong  *faith  in  the  prosecutor  that  could  credit 
this  story.  In  every  part  of  it,  it  was  improbable  and 
absurd.  It  was  much  more  easy  to  believe,  that  the  bill 
was  changed.  There  might  have  been,  and  there  pro 
bably  was,  an  uncurrent  or  counterfeit  bill  found  in  the 
drawer  by  Leavitt.  He  certainly  did  not  at  the  time 
think  it  to  be  Goodridgo's,  and  he  left  it  in  the  drawer 
where  he  found  it.  Before  he  saw  it  again,  the  prosecutor 


436         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

had  been  in  that  room,  and  was  in  or  near  it  when  the 
sheriff  was  again  called  in,  and  asked  to  put  that  bill  in 
his  pocket-book.  How  did  the  jury  know,  that  this  waa 
the  same  bill  which  Leavitt  had  before  seen  ?  Or,  suppose 
it  was :  Leavitt  carried  it  to  Coffin's ;  in  the  evening  he 
produced  it,  and,  after  having  been  handed  about  for  some 
time  among  the  company,  it  turned  out  to  be  Goodridge's 
bill,  and  to  have  upon  it  infallible  marks  of  identity. 
How  did  the  jury  know,  that  a  sleight  of  hand  had  not 
changed  the  bill  at  Coffin's  ?  It  is  sufficient  to  say,  the 
bill  might  have  been  changed.  It  is  not  certain,  that  this 
is  the  bill  which  Leavitt  first  found  in  the  drawer — and 
this  not  being  certain,  it  is  not  proof  against  the  de 
fendants. 

Was  it  not  extremely  improbable,  if  the  defendants  were 
guilty,  that  they  should  deposit  the  money  in  the  places 
where  it  was  found  ?  Why  should  they  put  it  in  small 
parcels  in  so  many  places,  for  no  end  but  to  multiply  the 
chances  of  detection  ?  Why,  especially,  should  they  put 
a  doubloon  in  their  father's  pocket-book  ?  There  is  no 
evidence,  nor  any  ground  of  suspicion,  that  the  father 
knew  of  the  money  being  in  his  pocket-book.  He  swears 
he  did  not  know  it.  His  general  character  is  unimpeached, 
and  there  is  nothing  against  his  credit.  The  inquiry  at 
Stratham  was  calculated  to  elicit  the  truth ;  and,  after  all, 
there  is  not  the  slightest  reason  to  suspect  that  he  knew 
that  the  doubloon  was  in  his  pocket-book.  What  could 
possibly  induce  the  defendants  to  place  it  there  ?  No  man 
can  conjecture  a  reason.  On  the  other  hand,  if  this  were 
a  fraudulent  proceeding  on  the  part  of  the  prosecutor,  this 
circumstance  could  be  explained.  He  did  not  know  that 
the  pocket-book,  and  the  garment  in  which  it  was  found, 
did  not  belong  to  one  of  the  defendants.  He  was  as 


ARGUMENT   IN    THE    GOODRIDGE    CASE.  437 

likely,  therefore,  to  place  it  there  as  elsewhere.  It  was 
very  material  to  consider  that  nothing  was  found  in  that 
part  of  the  house  which  belonged  to  the  defendants. 
Every  thing  was  discovered  in  the  father's  apartments. 
They  were  not  found,  therefore,  in  the  possession  of  the 
defendants,  any  more  than  if  they  had  been  discovered  in 
any  other  house  in  the  neighborhood.  The  two  tenements, 
it  was  true,  were  under  the  same  roof;  but  they  were  not 
on  that  account  the  same  tenements :  they  were  as  dis 
tinct  as  any  other  houses.  Now,  how  should  it  happen 
that  the  several  parcels  of  money  should  all  be  found  in 
the  father's  possession  ?  He  is  not  suspected — certainly 
there  is  no  reason  to  suspect  him — of  having  had  any  hand 
either  in  the  commission  of  the  robbery,  or  the  concealing 
of  the  goods.  He  swears  he  had  no  knowledge  of  any  part 
of  this  money  being  in  his  house.  It  is  not  easy  to 
imagine  how  it  came  there,  unless  it  be  supposed  to  be  put 
there  by  some  one  who  did  not  know  what  part  of  the 
house  belonged  to  the  defendants,  and  what  did  not. 

The  witnesses  on  the  part  of  the  prosecution  have  testi 
fied  that  the  defendants,  when  arrested,  manifested  great 
agitation  and  alarm ;  paleness  overspread  their  faces,  and 
drops  of  sweat  stood  on  their  temples.  This  satisfied  the 
witnesses  of  the  defendants'  guilt,  and  they  now  state  the 
circumstance  as  being  indubitable  proof.  This  argument 
manifests  in  those  who  use  it  equal  want  of  sense  and  sen 
sibility.  It  is  precisely  fitted  to  the  feeling  and  the  intel 
lect  of  a  bum-bailiff.  In  a  court  of  justice  it  deserves 
nothing  but  contempt.  Is  there  nothing  that  can  agitate 
the  frame,  or  excite  the  blood,  but  the  consciousness  of 
guilt  ?  If  the  defendants  were  innocent,  would  they  not 
feel  indignation  at  this  unjust  accusation  ?  If  they  saw  an 
attempt  to  produce  false  evidence  against  them,  would 

37* 


438         SPEECHES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

they  not  be  angry  ?  And,  seeing  the  production  of  such 
evidence,  might  they  not  feel  fear  and  alarm?  And  have 
indignation,  and  anger,  and  terror,  no  jjower  to  affect  the 
human  countenance,  or  the  human  frame? 

Miserable,  miserable,  indeed,  is  the  reasoning  which 
would  infer  any  man's  guilt  from  his  agitation,  when  he 
found  himself  accused  of  a  heinous  oifence;  when  he  saw 
evidence,  which  he  might  know  to  be  false  and  fraudulent, 
brought  against  him;  when  his  house  was  filled,  from  the 
garret  to  the  cellar,  by  those  whom  he  might  esteem  as 
false  witnesses ;  and  when  he  himself,  instead  of  being  at 
liberty  to  observe  their  conduct  and  watch  their  motions, 
was  a  prisoner  in  close  custody  in  his  own  house,  with  the 
fists  of  a  catch-poll  clenched  upon  his  throat. 

The  defendants  were  at  Newburyport  the  afternoon  and 
evening  of  the  robbery.  For  the  greater  part  of  the  time, 
they  show  where  they  were  and  what  they  were  doing. 
Their  proof,  it  is  true,  does  not  apply  to  every  moment. 
But  when  it  is  considered  that,  from  the  moment  of  their 
arrest,  they  have  been  in  close  prison,  perhaps  they  have 
shown  as  much  as  could  be  expected.  Few  men,  when 
called  on  afterward,  can  remember,  and  fewer  still  can 
prove,  how  they  have  passed  every  half-hour  of  an  evening. 
At  a  reasonable  hour  they  both  came  to  the  house  where 
Laban  had  lodged  the  night  before.  Nothing  suspicious 
was  observed  in  their  manners  or  conversation.  Is  it  pro 
bable  they  would  thus  come  unconcernedly  into  the  com 
pany  of  others  from  a  field  of  robbery,  and,  as  they  must 
have  supposed,  of  murder,  before  they  could  have  ascer 
tained  whether  the  stain  of  blood  was  not  on  their  gar 
ments  ?  They  remained  in  the  place  a  part  of  the  next 
day.  The  town  was  alarmed ;  a  strict  inquiry  was  made 
of  all  strangers,  and  of  the  defendants,  among  others. 


AKGUMENT   IN   THE   GOODRIDGE    CASE.  439 

Nothing  suspicious  was  discovered.  They  avoided  no 
inquiry,  nor  left  the  town  in  any  haste.  The  jury  had 
had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  defendants.  Did  their 
general  appearance  indicate  that  hardihood  which  would 
enable  them  to  act  this  cool,  unconcerned  part?  Was  it 
not  more  likely  they  would  have  fled  ? 

From  the  time  of  the  robbery  to  the  arrest,  five  or  six 
weeks,  the  defendants  had  been  engaged  in  their  usual  oc 
cupations.  They  are  not  found  to  have  passed  a  dollar  of 
money  to  anybody.  They  continued  their  ordinary  habits 
of  labor.  No  man  saw  money  about  them,  nor  any  cir 
cumstance  that  might  lead  to  a  suspicion  that  they  had 
money.  Nothing  occurred  tending  in  any  degree  to  excite 
suspicion  against  them.  When  arrested,  and  when  all  this 
array  of  evidence  was  made  against  them,  and  when  they 
could  hope  in  nothing  but  their  innocence,  immunity  was 
offered  them  again  if  they  would  confess.  They  were 
pressed,  and  urged,  and  allured,  by  every  motive  which 
could  be  set  before  them,  to  acknowledge  their  participa 
tion  in  the  offence,  and  to  bring,  out  their  accomplices. 
They  steadily  protested  that  they  could  confess  nothing, 
because  they  knew  nothing.  In  defiance  of  all  the  dis 
coveries  made  in  their  house,  they  have  trusted  to  their 
innocence.  On  that,  and  on  the  candor  and  discernment 
of  an  enlightened  jury,  they  still  relied. 

If  the  jury  were  satisfied,  that  there  was  the  highest 
improbability  that  these  persons  could  have  had  any  pre 
vious  knowledge  of  Goodridge,  or  been  concerned  in  any 
previous  concert  to  rob  him ;  if  their  conduct  that  evening 
and  the  next  day  was  marked  by  no  circumstances  of  sus 
picion  ;  if,  from  that  moment  until  their  arrest,  nothing 
appeared  against  them  ;  if  they  neither  passed  money,  nor 
are  found  to  have  had  money ;  if  the  manner  of  the  search 


440  SPEECHES    OF   DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

of  their  house,  and  the  circumstances  attending  it,  excite 
strong  suspicions  of  unfair  and  fraudulent  practices ;  if,  in 
the  hour  of  their  utmost  peril,  no  promises  of  safety  could 
draw  from  the  defendants  any  confessions  affecting  them 
selves  or  others, — it  would  be  for  the  jury  to  say  whether 
they  could  pronounce  them  guilty. 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 


I. 

SENATE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES, 

Tuesday,  December  14,  1852. 


AFTER  various  topics  of  the  Message  of  the  President 
had  been  referred  to  the  appropriate  committees,  Mr. 
DAVIS  rose,  and  addressed  the  Senate  as  follows  : 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  I  rise  to  bring  to  the  notice  of  the 
Senate  an  event  which  has  touched  the  sensibilities  and 
awakened  sympathies  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  an  event 
which  has  appropriately  found  a  place  in  the  message  of 
the  President,  and  ought  not  to  be  passed  in  silence  by  the 
Senate.  Sir,  we  have,  within  a  short  space,  mourned  the 
death  of  a  succession  of  men  illustrious  by  their  services, 
their  talents,  and  worth.  Not  only  have  seats  in  this 
Chamber,  in  the  other  House,  and  upon  the  bench  of  tho 
Court,  been  vacated,  but  death  has  entered  the  Executive 
Mansion  and  claimed  that  beloved  patriot  who  filled  the 
Chair  of  State. 

The  portals  of  the  tomb  had  scarcely  closed  upon  the 
remains  of  a  great  and  gifted  member  of  this  House,  before 
they  are  again  opened  to  receive  another  marked  man  of 
our  day — one  who  stood  out  with  a  singular  prominence 
before  his  countrymen,  challenging,  by  his  extraordinary 
intellectual  power,  the  admiration  of  his  fellow-men. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER,  (a  name  familiar  in  the  remotest  cabin 
upon  the  frontier,)  after  mixing  actively  with  the  councils 


442  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

of  his  country  for  forty  years,  and  having  reached  the 
limits  of  life  assigned  to  mortals,  has  descended  to  the 
mansions  of  the  dead,  and  the  damp  earth  now  rests  upon 
his  manly  form. 

That  magic  voice,  which  was  wont  to  fill  this  place  with 
admiring  listeners,  is  hushed  in  eternal  silence.  The  mul 
titude  will  no  longer  bend  in  breathless  attention  from  the 
galleries  to  catch  his  words,  and  to  watch  the  speaking 
eloquence  of  his  countenance,  animated  by  the  fervor  of 
his  mind ;  nor  will  the  Senate  again  be  instructed  by  the 
outpourings  of  his  profound  intellect,  matured  by  long 
experience,  and  enriched  by  copious  streams  from  the 
fountains  of  knowledge.  The  thread  of  life  is  cut;  the 
immortal  is  separated  from  the  mortal ;  and  the  products 
of  a  great  and  cultivated  mind  are  all  that  remain  to  us  of 
the  jurist  and  legislator. 

Few  men  have  attracted  so  large  a  share  of  public  atten 
tion,  or  maintained  for  so  long  a  period  an  equal  degree  of 
mental  distinction.  In  this  and  the  other  House  there 
were  rivals  for  fame,  and  he  grappled  in  debate  with  the 
master-minds  of  the  day,  and  achieved  in  such  manly  con 
flict  the  imperishable  renown  connected  with  his  name. 

Upon  most  of  the  questions  which  have  been  agitated  in 
Congress  during  his  period  of  service,  his  voice  was  heard. 
Few  orators  have  equalled  him  in  a  masterly  power  of 
condensation,  or  in  that  clear  logical  arrangement  of  proofs 
and  arguments  which  secures  the  attention  of  the  hearer, 
and  holds  it  with  unabated  interest. 

These  speeches  have  been  preserved,  and  many  of  them 
will  be  read  as  forensic  models,  and  will  command  admira 
tion  for  their  great  display  of  intellectual  power  and  ex 
tensive  research.  This  is  not  a  suitable  occasion  to  discuss 
the  merits  of  political  productions,  or  to  compare  them 
with  the  effusions  of  great  contemporaneous  minds,  or  to 
speak  of  the  principles  advocated.  All  this  belongs  to  the 
future,  and  history  will  assign  each  great  name  the  mea 
sure  of  its  enduring  fame. 

Mr.  WEBSTER  was  conspicuous  not  only  among  the  most 
illustrious  men  in  the  halls  of  legislation,  but  his  fame 
shone  with  undiminished  lustre  in  the  judicial  tribunals  as 
an  advocate,  where  he  participated  in  many  of  the  most 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  443 

important  discussions.  On  the  bench  were  Marshall,  Story, 
and  their  brethren — men  of  patient  research  and  compre 
hensive  scope  of  intellect — who  have  left  behind  them,  in 
our  judicial  annals,  proofs  of  greatness  which  will  secure 
profound  veneration  and  respect  for  their  names.  At  the 
bar  stood  Pinckney,  Wirt,  Emmett,  and  many  others  who 
adorned  and  gave  exalted  character  to  the  profession. 
Amid  these  luminaries  of  the  bar  he  discussed  many  of  the 
great  questions  raised  in  giving  construction  to  organic 
law ;  and  no  one  shone  with  more  intense  brightness,  or 
brought  into  the  conflict  of  mind  more  learning,  higher 
proofs  of  severe  mental  discipline,  or  more  copious  illustra 
tion. 

Among  such  men,  and  in  such  honorable  combat,  the 
foundations  of  that  critical  knowledge  of  constitutional 
law,  which  afterward  became  a  prominent  feature  of  his 
character,  and  entered  largely  into  his  opinions  as  a  legis 
lator,  were  laid. 

The  arguments  made  at  this  forum  displayed  a  careful 
research  into  the  history  of  the  formation  of  the  Federal 
Union,  and  an  acute  analysis  of  the  fundamental  provisions 
of  the  Constitution. 

Probably  no  man  has  penetrated  deeper  into  the  prin 
ciples,  or  taken  a  more  comprehensive  and  complete  view 
of  the  Union  of  the  States,  than  that  great  man,  Chief- 
Justice  Marshall.  No  question  was  so  subtle  as  to  elude 
his  grasp,  or  so  complex  as  to  defy  his  penetration.  Even 
the  great  and  the  learned  esteemed  it  no  condescension  to 
listen  to  the  teachings  of  his  voice ;  and  no  one  profited 
more  by  his  wisdom,  or  more  venerated  his  character,  than 
Mr.  Webster. 

To  stand  among  such  men  with  marked  distinction,  as 
did  Mr.  Webster,  is  an  association  which  might  satisfy  any 
ambition,  whatever  might  be  its  aspirations.  But  there, 
among  those  illustrious  men,  who  have  finished  their  labors 
and  gone  to  their  final  homes,  he  made  his  mark  strong 
and  deep,  which  will  be  seen  and  traced  by  posterity. 

But  I  need  not  dwell  on  that  which  is  familiar  to  all 
readers  who  feel  an  interest  in  such  topics  ;  nor  need  I 
notice  the  details  of  his  private  life — since  hundreds  of 
pens  have  been  employed  in  revealing  all  the  facts,  and  in 


444  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

describing,  in  the  most  vivid  manner,  all  the  scenes  which 
have  been  deemed  attractive  ;  nor  need  I  reiterate  the 
fervent  language  of  eulogy  which  has  been  poured  out  in 
all  quarters  from  the  press,  the  pulpit,  the  bar,  legislative 
bodies,  and  public  assemblies — since  his  own  productions 
constitute  his  best  eulogy. 

I  could  not,  if  I  were  to  attempt  it,  add  any  thing  to  the 
strength  or  beauty  of  the  manifold  evidences  which  have 
been  exhibited  of  the  length,  the  breadth  and  height  of 
his  fame ;  nor  is  there  any  occasion  for  such  proofs  in  the 
Senate — the  place  where  his  face  was  familiar,  where  many 
of  his  greatest  efforts  were  made,  and  where  his  intellectual 
powers  were  appreciated.  Here  he  was  seen  and  heard, 
and  nowhere  else  will  his  claim  to  great  distinction  be  more 
cheerfully  admitted. 

But  the  places  which  have  known  him  will  know  him  no 
more !  His  form  will  never  rise  here  again  ;  his  voice  will 
not  be  heard,  nor  his  expressive  countenance  seen.  He  is 
dead.  In  his  last  moments  he  was  surrounded  by  his 
family  and  friends  at  his  own  home ;  and,  while  consoled 
by  their  presence,  his  spirit  took  its  flight  to  other  regions. 
All  that  remained  has  been  committed  to  its  kindred  earth. 
Divine  Providence  gives  us  illustrious  men,  but  they,  like 
others,  when  their  mission  is  ended,  yield  to  the  inexorable 
law  of  our  being.  He  who  gives  also  takes  away,  but  never 
forsakes  his  faithful  children. 

The  places  of  those  possessing  uncommon  gifts  are 
vacated,  the  sod  rests  upon  the  once  manly  form,  now  as 
cold  and  lifeless  as  itself,  and  the  living  are  filled  with 
gloom  and  desolation.  But  the  world  rolls  on;  Nature 
loses  none  of  its  charms ;  the  sun  rises  with  undiminished 
splendor ;  the  grass  loses  none  of  its  freshness ;  nor  do  the 
flowers  cease  to  fill  the  air  with  fragrance.  Nature,  un 
touched  by  human  woe,  proclaims  the  immutable  law  of 
Providence,  that  decay  follows  growth,  and  that  He  who 
takes  away  never  fails  to  give. 

Sir,  I  propose  the  following  resolutions,  believing  that 
they  will  meet  the  cordial  approbation  of  the  Senate : 

Resolved,  That  the  Senate  has  received  with  profound 
sensibility  the  annunciation  from  the  President  of  the  death 


OBITUARY    ADDRESSES.  445 

of  the  late  Secretary  of  State,  Daniel  Webster,  who  was 
long  a  highly  distinguished  member  of  this  body. 

Resolved,  That  the  Senate  will  manifest  its  respect  for 
the  memory  of  the  deceased,  and  its  sympathy  with  his 
bereaved  family,  by  wearing  the  usual  badge  of  mourning 
for  thirty  days. 

Resolved^  That  these  proceedings  be  communicated  to 
the  House  of  Representatives. 


II. 

MR.  BUTLER. 

Mr.  PRESIDENT:  This  is  an  occasion  full  of  interesting 
but  melancholy  associations,  and  one  that  especially  ap 
peals  to  my  feelings  and  sense  of  justice — I  might  almost 
say  historical  justice — as  a  representative  of  South  Caro 
lina.  Who,  that  were  present,  can  ever  forget  the  mourn 
ful  and  imposing  occasion  when  Daniel  Webster,  whose 
eloquence  and  ability  had  given  distinction  to  the  greatest 
deliberative  assembly  and  the  most  august  tribunal  of 
justice  in  this  great  Confederacy;  and  when  Henry  Clay 
— a  name  associated  with  all  that  is  daring  in  action  and 
splendid  in  eloquence — rose  as  witnesses  before  the  tribunal 
of  history,  and  gave  their  testimony  as  to  the  character 
and  services  of  their  illustrious  compeer,  John  Caldwell 
Calhoun  ?  They  embalmed  in  historical  immortality  their 
rival,  associate,  and  comrade. 

I  would  that  I  could  borrow  from  the  spirit  of  my  great 
countryman  something  of  its  justice  and  magnanimity,  that 
I  might  make  some  requital  for  the  distinguished  tributes 
paid  to  his  memory  by  his  illustrious  compeers.  Such  an 
occasion  as  the  one  I  have  referred  to,  is  without  parallel 
m  the  history  of  this  Senate;  and,  sir,  I  fear  that  there  is 
no  future  for  such  another  one.  Calhoun,  Clay,  and  Web 
ster — like  Pitt,  Fox,  and  Burke — have  made  a  picture  on 
our  history  that  will  be  looked  upon  as  its  culminating 
splendor.  They  were  luminaries  that,  in  many  points  of 

38 


446  OBITUARY    ADDRESSER. 

view,  essentially  differed  from  each  other,  as  one  star  dif- 
fereth  from  another ;  but  they  were  all  stars  of  the  first 
magnitude.  Distance  cannot  destroy,  nor  can  time  diminish 
the  simple  splendor  of  their  light  for  the  guidance  and  in 
struction  of  an  admiring  posterity. 

Rivals  they  were  on  a  great  and  eventful  theatre  of 
political  life ;  but  death  has  given  them  a  common  fame. 

Eadem  arena, 

Communis  virtus,  atque  perennis  decus, 
Victrix  causa  parem  meritis  et  victa  favorem 
Viiidicat,  sotemum  vivere  fama  dcdit. 

Their  contest  in  life  was  for  the  awards  of  public  opinion 
— the  great  lever  in  modern  times  by  which  nations  are  to 
be  moved. 

"  With  more  than  mortal  powers  endow'd, 
How  high  they  soar'd  above  the  crowd! 
Theirs  was  no  common  party  race, 
Jostling  by  dark  intrigue  for  place  : 
Like  fabled  gods,  their  mighty  war 
Shook  realms  and  nations  in  its  jar!" 

Before  I  became  a  member  of  the  Senate,  of  which  I 
found  Mr.  Webster  a  distinguished  ornament,  I  had  formed 
a  very  high  estimate  of  his  abilities — and  from  various 
sources  of  high  authority.  His  mind,  remarkable  for  its 
large  capacity,  was  enriched  with  rare  endowments — with 
the  knowledge  of  a  statesman,  the  learning  of  a  jurist,  and 
the  attainments  of  a  scholar.  In  this  Chamber,  with  un 
surpassed  ability,  Mr.  Webster  has  discussed  the  greatest 
subjects  that  have  influenced,  or  can  influence,  the  destinies 
of  this  great  Confederacy.  Well  may  I  apply  to  him  the 
striking  remark  which  he  bestowed  on  Mr.  Calhoun  :  "  We 
saw  before  us  a  Senator  of  Rome,  when  Rome  survived." 

I  have  always  regarded  Mr.  Webster  as  a  noble  model 
of  a  parliamentary  debater.  His  genial  temper,  the 
courtesy  and  dignity  of  his  deportment,  his  profound 
knowledge  of  his  subject,  and  his  thorough  preparation, 
not  only  gave  him  a  great  command  over  his  immediate 
audience,  but  gave  his  masterly  speeches  an  impressive  in 
fluence  upon  public  opinion. 

In  the  Supreme  Court,  Mr.  Webster  was  engaged  in  the 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  447 

greatest  cases  that  were  ever  decided  by  that  tribunal ;  and 
it  is  not  saying  too  much  to  assert  that  his  -arguments 
formed  the  basis  of  some  of  the  ablest  judgments  of  that 
court.  His  exuberant  but  rectified  imagination,  and  bril 
liant  literary  attainments,  imparted  to  his  eloquence  beauty, 
simplicity,  and  majesty,  and  the  finish  of  taste  and  elabora 
tion.  He  seemed  to  prefer  the  more  deliberative  style  of 
speaking ;  but,  when  roused  and  assailed,  he  became  a 
formidable  adversary  in  the  war  of  debate,  discharging 
from  his  full  quiver  the  arrows  of  sarcasm  and  invective 
with  telling  effect. 

Mr.  Webster  was  born  in  a  forest,  and,  in  his  childhood 
and  youth,  lived  amid  the  scenes  of  rural  life ;  and  it  was 
no  doubt  under  their  inspiring  influence  that  he  imbibed 
that  love  of  Nature  which  has  given  such  a  charm  and 
touching  pathos  to  some  of  his  meditative  productions.  It 
always  struck  me  that  he  had  something  of  Burns's  nature, 
but  controlled  by  the  discipline  of  a  higher  education. 
Lifted  above  the  ordinary  level  of  mankind  by  his  genius 
and  intelligence,  Mr.  Webster  looked  upon  a  more  exten 
sive  horizon  than  could  be  seen  by  those  below  him.  He 
had  too  much  information,  from  his  large  and  varied  inter 
course  with  great  men,  and  his  acquaintance  with  the 
opinions  of  all  ages  through  the  medium  of  books,  to  allow 
the  spirit  of  bigotry  to  have  a  place  in  his  mind.  I  have 
many  reasons  to  conclude  that  he  was  not  only  tolerant  of 
the  opinions  of  others,  but  was  even  generous  in  his  judg 
ments  toward  them.  I  will  conclude  by  saying  that  New 
England,  especially,  and  the  Confederacy  at  large,  have 
cause  to  be  proud  of  the  fame  of  such  a  man. 


III. 

MR.  CASS. 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  How  ARE  THE  MIGHTY  FALLEN  !  was 
the  pathetic  lamentation  when  the  leaders  of  Israel  were 
struck  down  in  the  midst  of  their  services  and  of  their 


445  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

renown.  Well  may  we  repeat  that  national  wail,  How  ARE 
THE  MIGHTY  FALLEN  !  when  the  impressive  dispensations 
of  Providence  have  so  recently  carried  mourning  to  the 
hearts  of  the  American  people,  by  summoning  from  life  to 
death  three  of  their  eminent  citizens,  who,  for  almost  half 
a  century,  had  taken  part — and  prominently,  too — in  all 
the  great  questions,  as  well  of  peace  as  of  war,  which 
agitated  and  divided  their  country.  Full,  indeed,  they 
were  of  days  and  of  honors,  for 

"  The  hand  of  the  reaper 
Took  the  ears  that  were  hoary," 

but  never  brighter  in  intellect,  purer  in  patriotism,  nor 
more  powerful  in  influence,  than  when  the  grave  closed 
upon  their  labors,  leaving  their  memory  and  their  career 
at  once  an  incentive  and  an  example  for  their  countrymen 
in  that  long  course  of  trial — but  I  trust  of  freedom  and 
prosperity,  also — which  is  open  before  us.  Often  divided 
in  life,  but  only  by  honest  convictions  of  duty,  followed  in 
a  spirit  of  generous  emulation,  and  not  of  personal  opposi 
tion,  they  are  now  united  in  death;  and  we  may  appro 
priately  adopt,  upon  this  striking  occasion,  the  beautiful 
language  addressed  to  the  people  of  England  by  one  of 
her  most  gifted  sons,  when  they  were  called  to  mourn,  as 
we  are  called  now,  a  bereavement  which  spread  sorrow — 
dismay  almost — through  the  nation,  and  under  circum 
stances  of  difficulty  and  of  danger  far  greater  than  any 
we  can  now  reasonably  anticipate  in  the  progress  of  our 
history  : 

"Seek  not  for  those  a  separate  doom, 
Whom  fate  made  brothers  in  the  tomb; 
But  search  the  land  of  living  men : 
Where  shall  we  find  their  like  again?" 

And  to-day,  in  the  consideration  of  the  message  of  the 
Chief  Magistrate,  it  becomes  us  to  respond  to  his  annuncia 
tion — commending  itself,  as  it  does,  to  the  universal  senti 
ment  of  the  country — of  the  death  of  the  last  of  these 
lamented  statesmen,  as  a  national  misfortune.  This  mark 
of  respect  and  regret  was  due  alike  to  the  memory  of  the 
dead  and  to  the  feelings  of  the  living.  And  I  have  lis 
tened  with  deep  emotion  to^the  eloquent  testimonials  to  the 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  449 

mental  power,  and  worth,  and  services  of  the  departed 
patriot,  which  to-day  have  been  heard  in  this  high  place, 
and  will  be  heard  to-morrow,  and  commended,  too,  by  the 
American  people.  The  voice  of  party  is  hushed  in  the 
presence  of  such  a  national  calamity,  and  the  grave  closes 
upon  the  asperity  of  political  contests  when  it  closes  upon 
those  who  have  taken  part  in  them.  And  well  may  we, 
who  have  so  often  witnessed  his  labors  and  his  triumphs — 
well  may  we,  here,  upon  this  theatre  of  his  services  and 
his  renown,  recalling  the  efforts  of  his  mighty  understand 
ing,  and  the  admiration  which  always  followed  its  exertion 
— well  may  we  come  with  our  tribute  of  acknowledgment 
to  his  high  and  diversified  powers,  and  to  the  influence  he 
exercised  upon  his  auditory,  and,  in  fact,  upon  his  country. 
He  was,  indeed,  one  of  those  remarkable  men  who  stand 
prominently  forward  upon  the  canvas  of  history,  impress 
ing  their  characteristics  upon  the  age  in  which  they  live, 
and  almost  making  it  their  own  by  the  force  of  their  genius 
and  by  the  splendor  of  their  fame.  The  time  which  elapsed 
between  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  and  our  own 
day  was  prolific  of  great  events  and  of  distinguished  men, 
who  guided  or  were  guided  by  them,  far  beyond  any  other 
equal  period  in  the  history  of  human  society.  But,  in  my 
opinion,  even  this  favored  epoch  has  produced  no  man  pos 
sessing  a  more  massive  and  gigantic  intellect,  or  who  exhi 
bited  more  profound  powers  of  investigation  in  the  great 
department  of  political  science  to  which  he  devoted  him 
self,  in  all  its  various  ramifications,  than  Daniel  Webster. 

The  structure  of  his  mind  seemed  peculiarly  adapted  to 
the  work  he  was  called  upon  to  do,  and  he  did  it  as  no 
other  man  of  his  counrty — of  his  age,  indeed — could  have 
done  it.  And  his  name  and  his  fame  are  indissolubly  con 
nected  with  some  of  the  most  difficult  and  important  ques 
tions  which  our  peculiar  institutions  have  called  into  dis 
cussion.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  hear  him  upon  one  of 
the  most  memorable  of  these  occasions,  when,  in  this  very 
hail,  filled  to  overflowing  with  an  audience  whose  rapt  at 
tention  indicated  his  power  and  their  expectations,  he 
entered  into  an  analysis  of  the  Constitution,  and  of  the 
great  principles  of  our  political  organization,  with  a  vigor 

as* 


450  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

of  argument,  a  force  of  illustration,  and  a  felicity  of  dic 
tion,  which  have  rendered  this  effort  of  his  mind  one  of 
the  proudest  monuments  of  American  genius,  and  one  of 
the  noblest  expositions  which  the  operations  of  our  Govern 
ment  have  called  forth.  I  speak  of  its  general  effect, 
without  concurring  in  all  the  views  he  presented,  though 
the  points  of  difference  neither  impair  my  estimate  of  the 
speaker  nor  of  the  power  he  displayed  in  this  elaborate 
debate. 

The  judgment  of  his  contemporaries  upon  the  character 
of  his  eloquence  will  be  confirmed  by  the  future  historian. 
He  grasped  the  questions  involved  in  the  subject  before 
him  with  a  rare  union  of  force  and  discrimination,  and  he 
presented  them  in  an  order  of  arrangement,  marked  at 
once  with  great  perspicuity  and  with  logical  acuteness,  so 
that,  when  he  arrived  at  his  conclusion,  he  seemed  to  reach 
it  by  a  process  of  established  propositions,  interwoven  with 
the  hand  of  a  master ;  and  topics,  barren  of  attraction, 
from  their  nature,  were  rendered  interesting  by  illustra 
tions  and  allusions,  drawn  from  a  vast  storehouse  of  know 
ledge,  and  applied  with  a  chastened  taste,  formed  upon 
the  best  models  of  ancient  and  of  modern  learning ;  and 
to  these  eminent  qualifications  was  added  an  uninterrupted 
flow  of  rich  and  often  racy  old-fashioned  English,  worthy 
of  the  earlier  masters  of  the  language,  whom  he  studied 
and  admired. 

As  a  statesman  and  politician  his  power  was  felt  and 
acknowledged  through  the  Republic,  and  all  bore  willing 
testimony  to  his  enlarged  views  and  to  his  ardent  patriot 
ism.  And  he  acquired  a  European  reputation  by  the 
state  papers  he  prepared  upon  various  questions  of  our 
foreign  policy  ;  and  one  of  these — his  refutation  and  ex 
posure  of  an  absurd  and  arrogant  pretension  of  Austria — 
is  distinguished  by  lofty  and  generous  sentiments,  be 
coming  the  age  in  which  he  lived  and  the  great  people  in 
whose  name  he  spoke,  and  is  stamped  with  a  vigor  and  re 
search  not  less  honorable  in  the  exhibition  than  conclusive 
in  the  application  ;  and  it  will  ever  take  rank  in  the 
history  of  diplomatic  intercourse  among  the  richest  con 
tributions  to  the  commentaries  upon  the  public  law  of  the 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  451 

world.  And  in  internal  as  in  external  troubles  he  was 
true,  and  tried,  and  faithful ;  and  in  the  latest,  may  it  be 
the  last,  as  it  was  the  most  perilous,  crisis  of  our  country, 
rejecting  all  sectional  considerations,  and  exposing  himself 
to  sectional  denunciation,  he  stood  up  boldly,  proudly,  in 
deed,  and  with  consummate  ability,  for  the  constitutional 
rights  of  another  portion  of  the  Union,  fiercely  assailed 
by  a  spirit  of  aggression,  as  incompatible  with  our  mutual 
obligations  as  with  the  duration  of  the  Confederation 
itself.  In  that  dark  and  doubtful  hour,  his  voice  was 
heard  above  the  storm,  recalling  his  countrymen  to  a  sense 
of  their  dangers  and  their  duties,  and  tempering  the  les 
sons  of  reproof  with  the  experience  of  age  and  the  dictates 
of  patriotism. 

He  who  heard  his  memorable  appeal  to  the  public  reason 
and  conscience,  made  in  this  crowded  chamber,  with  all 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  speaker,  and  almost  all  hearts  swayed 
by  his  words  of  wisdom  and  of  power,  will  sedulously  guard 
its  recollections  as  one  of  those  precious  incidents  which, 
while  they  constitute  the  poetry  of  history,  exert  a  per 
manent  and  decisive  influence  upon  the  destiny  of  nations. 

And  our  deceased  colleague  added  the  kindlier  aifec- 
tions  of  the  heart  to  the  lofty  endowments  of  the  mind  ; 
and  I  recall,  with  almost  painful  sensibility,  the  associa 
tions  of  our  boyhood,  when  we  were  school-fellows  together, 
with  all  the  troubles  and  the  pleasures  which  belong  to 
that  relation  of  life,  in  its  narrow  world  of  preparation. 
He  rendered  himself  dear  by  his  disposition  and  deport 
ment,  and  exhibited  some  of  those  peculiar  characteristic 
features,  which,  later  in  life,  made  him  the  ornament  of 
the  social  circle,  and,  when  study  and  knowledge  of  the 
world  had  ripened  his  faculties,  endowed  him  with  powers 
of  conversation  I  have  not  found  surpassed  in  my  inter 
course  with  society,  at  home  or  abroad.  His  conduct  and 
bearing  at  that  early  period  have  left  an  enduring  impres 
sion  upon  my  memory  of  mental  traits  which  his  sub 
sequent  course  in  life  developed  and  confirmed.  And  the 
commanding  position  and  ascendency  of  the  man  were  fore 
shadowed  by  the  standing  and  influence  of  the  boy  among 
the  comrades  who  surrounded  him.  Fifty-five  years  ago 


452  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

we  parted — he  to  prepare  for  his  splendid  career  in  the 
good  old  land  of  our  ancestors,  and  I  to  encounter  the 
rough  toils  and  trials  of  life  in  the  great  forest  of  the 
West.  But,  ere  long,  the  report  of  his  words  and  his 
deeds  penetrated  those  recesses,  where  human  industry  was 
pninfully,  but  successfully,  contending  with  the  obstacles 
of  Nature,  and  I  found  that  my  early  companion  was 
assuming  a  position  which  confirmed  my  previous  antici 
pations,  and  which  could  only  be  attained  by  the  rare 
faculties  with  which  he  was  gifted.  Since  then  he  has 
gone  on  irradiating  his  path  with  the  splendor  of  his  ex 
ertions,  till  the  whole  hemisphere  was  bright  with  his  glory, 
and  never  brighter  than  when  he  went  down  in  the  west, 
without  a  cloud  to  obscure  his  lustre,  calm,  clear,  and 
glorious.  Fortunate  in  life,  he  was  not  less  fortunate  in 
death,  for  he  died  with  his  fame  undiminished,  his  facul 
ties  unbroken,  and  his  usefulness  unimpaired ;  surrounded 
by  weeping  friends,  and  regarded  with  anxious  solicitude 
by  a  grateful  country,  to  whom  the  messenger  that  mocks 
at  time  and  space  told,  from  hour  to  hour,  the  progress  of 
his  disorder,  and  the  approach  of  his  fate.  And  beyond  all 
this,  he  died  in  the  faith  of  a  Christian,  humble,  but  hope 
ful,  adding  another  to  the  roll  of  eminent  men  who  have 
searched  the  gospel  of  Jesus,  and  have  found  it  the  word 
and  the  will  of  God,  given  to  direct  us  while  here,  and  to 
sustain  us  in  that  hour  of  trial,  when  the  things  of  this 
world  are  passing  away,  and  the  dark  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death  is  open  before  us. 

How  ARE  THE  MIGHTY  FALLEN  !  we  may  yet  exclaim, 
when  reft  of  our  greatest  and  wisest ;  but  they  fall  to  rise 
again  from  death  to  life,  when  such  quickening  faith  in  the 
mercy  of  God  and  in  the  sacrifice  of  the  Redeemer  comes 
to  shed  upon  them  its  happy  influence,  on  this  side  of  the 
grave  and  beyond  it. 


OBITUARY  ADDRESSES.  453 

IV. 

MB.  SEWARD. 

WHEN,  in  passing  through  Savoy,  I  reached  the  emi 
nence  where  the  traveller  is  promised  his  first  distinct 
view  of  Mont  Blanc,  I  asked,  "  Where  is  the  mountain  ?" 
"  There,"  said  the  guide,  pointing  to  the  rainy  sky  which 
stretched  out  before  me.  It  is  even  so  when  we  approach 
and  attempt  to  scan  accurately  a  great  character.  Clouds 
gather  upon  it,  and  seem  to  take  it  up  out  of  our  sight. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER  was  a  man  of  warm  and  earnest  af 
fections  in  all  the  domestic  and  social  relations.  Purely 
incidental  and  natural  allusions  in  his  conversations,  let 
ters,  and  speeches,  have  made  us  familiar  with  the  very 
pathways  about  his  early  mountain  home;  with  his  mother, 
graceful,  intellectual,  fond,  and  pious  ;  with  his  father,  as 
siduous,  patriotic,  and  religious,  changing  his  pursuits,  as 
duty  in  Revolutionary  times  commanded,  from  the  farm  to 
the  camp,  and  from  the  camp  to  the  provincial  legislature 
and  the  constituent  assembly.  It  seems  as  if  we  could 
recognise  the  very  form  and  features  of  the  most  constant 
and  generous  of  brothers.  Nor  are  we  strangers  at  Marsh- 
field.  We  are  guests  hospitably  admitted,  and  then  left  to 
wander  at  our  ease  under  the  evergreens  on  the  lawn,  over 
the  grassy  fields,  through  the  dark,  native  forest,  and  along 
the  resounding  sea-shore.  We  know,  almost  as  well  as  we 
know  our  own,  the  children  reared  there,  and  fondly  loved, 
and  therefore,  perhaps,  early  lost ;  the  servants  bought 
from  bondage,  and  held  by  the  stronger  chains  of  grati 
tude  ;  the  careful  steward,  always  active,  yet  never  hurried ; 
the  reverent  neighbor,  always  welcome,  yet  never  obtru 
sive  ;  and  the  ancient  fisherman,  whose  little  fleet  is  ever 
ready  for  the  sports  of  the  sea ;  and  we  meet  on  every  side 
the  watchful  and  devoted  friends  whom  no  frequency  of 
disappointment  can  discourage,  and  whom  even  the  death 
of  their  great  patron  cannot  all  at  once  disengage  from 
efforts  wliich  know  no  balancing  of  probabilities  nor 


454  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

reckoning  of  cost  to  secure  his  elevation  to  the  first  honors 
of  the  Republic. 

Who  that  was  even  confessedly  provincial  was  ever  so 
identified  with  any  thing  local  as  DANIEL  WEBSTER  was 
with  the  spindles  of  Lowell,  and  the  quarries  of  Quincy ; 
with  Faneuil  Hall,  Bunker  Hill,  Forefathers'  Day,  Ply 
mouth  Rock,  and  whatever  else  belonged  to  Massachu 
setts?  And  yet,  who  that  was  most  truly  national  has 
ever  so  sublimely  celebrated,  or  so  touchingly  commended 
to  our  reverent  affection,  our  broad  and  ever-broadening 
continental  home ;  its  endless  rivers,  majestic  mountains, 
and  capacious  lakes ;  its  inimitable  and  indescribable  con 
stitution  ;  its  cherished  and  growing  capital ;  its  aptly  con 
ceived  and  expressive  flag,  and  its  triumphs  by  land  and 
sea ;  and  its  immortal  founders,  heroes,  and  martyrs  ! 
How  manifest  it  was,  too,  that,  unlike  those  who  are  im 
patient  of  slow  but  sure  progress,  he  loved  his  country, 
not  for  something  greater  or  higher  than  he  desired  or 
hoped  she  might  be,  but  just  for  what  she  was,  and  as  she 
was  already,  regardless  of  future  change! 

No,  sir ;  believe  me,  they  err  widely  who  say  that 
DANIEL  WEBSTER  was  cold  and  passionless.  It  is  true 
that  he  had  little  enthusiasm  ;  but  he  was,  nevertheless, 
earnest  and  sincere,  as  well  as  calm  ;  and,  therefore,  he 
was  both  discriminating  and  comprehensive  in  his  affec 
tions.  We  recognise  his  likeness  in  the  portrait  drawn  by 
a  Roman  pencil : 

"who  with  nice  discernment  knows 
What  to  his  country  and  his  friends  he  owes ; 
How  various  Nature  warms  the  human  breast, 
To  love  the  parent,  brother,  friend,  or  guest, 
What  the  great  offices  of  judges  are, 
Of  senators,  of  generals  sent  to  war." 

DANIEL  WEBSTER  was  cheerful,  and  on  becoming  oc 
casions  joyous,  and  even  mirthful ;  but  he  was  habitually 
engaged  in  profound  studies  on  great  affairs.  He  was, 
moreover,  constitutionally  fearful  of  the  dangers  of  popular 
passion  and  prejudice  ;  and  so,  in  public  walk,  conversa 
tion,  and  debate,  he  was  grave  and  serious,  even  to  solem 
nity  ;  yet  he  never  desponded  in  the  darkest  hours  of 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  455 

personal  or  political  trial ;  and  melancholy  never,  in  health 
nor  even  in  sickness,  spread  a  pall  over  his  spirits. 

It  must  have  been  very  early  that  he  acquired  that  just 
estimate  of  his  own  powers  which  was  the  basis  of  a  self- 
reliance  which  all  the  world  saw  and  approved,  and  which, 
while  it  betrayed  no  feature  of  vanity,  none  but  a  super 
ficial  observer  could  have  mistaken  for  pride  or  arrogance. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER  was  no  sophist.  With  a  talent  for 
didactic  instruction  which  might  have  excused  dogmatism, 
he  never  lectured  on  the  questions  of  morals  that  are 
agitated  in  the  schools.  But  he  seemed,  nevertheless,  to 
have  acquired  a  philosophy  of  his  own,  and  to  have  made  it 
the  rule  and  guide  of  his  life.  That  philosophy  consisted  in 
improving  his  powers  and  his  tastes,  so  that  he  might  ap 
preciate  whatever  was  good  and  beautiful  in  nature  and 
art,  and  attain  to  whatever  was  excellent  in  conduct.  He 
had  accurate  perceptions  of  the  qualities  and  relations 
of  things.  He  overvalued  nothing  that  was  common, 
and  undervalued  nothing  that  was  useful,  or  even  orna 
mental.  His  lands,  his  cattle  and  equipage,  his  dwelling, 
library,  and  apparel,  his  letters,  arguments,  and  orations 
— every  thing  that  he  had,  every  thing  that  he  made,  and 
every  thing  that  he  did — was,  as  far  as  possible,  fit,  com 
plete,  perfect.  He  thought  decorous  forms  necessary  for 
preserving  whatever  was  substantial  or  valuable  in  politics 
and  morals,  and  even  in  religion.  In  his  regard,  order 
was  the  first  law,  and  peace  the  chief  blessing,  of  earth,  as 
they  are  of  heaven.  Therefore,  while  he  desired  justice 
and  loved  liberty,  he  reverenced  law  as  the  first  divinity  of 
states  and  of  society. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER  was,  indeed,  ambitious;  but  his  am 
bition  was  generally  subordinate  to  conventional  forms, 
and  always  to  the  Constitution.  He  aspired  to  place  and 
preferment,  but  not  for  the  mere  exercise  of  political 
power,  and  still  less  for  pleasurable  indulgences ;  and  only 
for  occasions  to  save  or  serve  his  country,  and  for  the  fame 
which  such  noble  actions  might  bring.  Who  will  censure 
such  ambition  ?  Who  had  greater  genius  subjected  to 
severer  discipline  ?  What  other  motives  than  those  of  am 
bition  could  have  brought  that  genius  into  activity  under 


456  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

that  discipline,  and  sustained  that  activity  so  equally  under 
ever-changing  circumstances  so  long  ?  His  ambition  never 
fell  off  into  presumption.  He  was,  on  the  contrary,  con 
tent  with  performing  all  practical  duties,  even  in  common 
affairs,  in  the  best  possible  manner ;  and  he  never  chafed 
under  petty  restraints  from  those  above,  nor  malicious 
annoyances  from  those  around  him.  If  ever  any  man  had 
intellectual  superiority  which  could  have  excused  a  want 
of  deference  due  to  human  authority,  or  skepticism  con 
cerning  that  which  was  divine,  he  was  such  a  one.  Yet  he 
was,  nevertheless,  unassuming  and  courteous,  here  and  else 
where,  in  the  public  councils ;  and  there  was,  I  think,  never 
a  time  in  his  life  when  he  was  not  an  unquestioning  be 
liever  in  that  religion  which  offers  to  the  meek  the  inherit 
ance  of  the  heavenly  kingdom. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER'S  mind  was  not  subtle,  but  it  was  clear. 
It  was  surpassingly  logical  in  the  exercise  of  induction,  and 
equally  vigorous  and  energetic  in  all  its  movements ;  and 
yet  he  possessed  an  imagination  so  strong  that  if  it  had 
been  combined  with  even  a  moderated  enthusiasm  of 
temper,  would  have  overturned  the  excellent  balance  of 
his  powers. 

The  civilian  rises  in  this,  as  in  other  republics,  by  the 
practice  of  eloquence ;  and  so  DANIEL  WEBSTER  became 
an  orator — the  first  of  orators. 

Whatever  else  concerning  him  has  been  controverted  by 
inybody,  the  fifty  thousand  lawyers  of  the  United  States, 
interested  to  deny  his  pretensions,  conceded  to  him  an  un 
approachable  supremacy  at  the  bar.  How  did  he  win  that 
high  place  ?  Where  others  studied  laboriously,  he  medi 
tated  intensely.  Where  others  appealed  to  the  prejudices 
and  passions  of  courts  and  juries,  he  addressed  only  their 
understandings.  Where  others  lost  themselves  among  the 
streams,  he  ascended  to  the  fountain.  While  they  sought 
the  rules  of  law  among  conflicting  precedents,  he  found 
them  in  the  eternal  principles  of  reason  and  justice. 

But  it  is  conceding  too  much  to  the  legal  profession  to 
call  DANIEL  WEBSTER  a  lawyer.  Lawyers  speak  for  clients 
and  their  interests — he  seemed  always  to  be  speaking  for 
his  country  and  for  truth.  So  he  rose  imperceptibly  above 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  4  57 

his  profession  ;  and  while  yet  in  the  Forum,  he  stood  before 
the  world  a  Publicist.  In  this  felicity,  he  resembled,  while 
he  surpassed,  Erskirie,  who  taught  the  courts  at  Westmin 
ster  the  law  of  moral  responsibility  ;  and  he  approached 
Hamilton,  who  educated  the  courts  at  Washington  in  the 
Constitution  of  their  country  and  the  philosophy  of  govern 
ment. 

An  undistinguishable  line  divides  this  high  province  of 
the  Forum  from  the  Senate,  to  which  his  philosophy  and 
eloquence  were  perfectly  adapted.  Here,  in  times  of 
stormy  agitation  and  bewildering  excitement,  when  as  yet 
the  Union  of  these  States  seemed  not  to  have  been  cemented 
and  consolidated,  and  its  dissolution  seemed  to  hang,  if  not 
on  the  immediate  result  of  the  debate,  at  least  upon  the 
popular  passion  that  that  result  must  generate,  DANIEL 
WEBSTER  put  forth  his  mightiest  efforts — confessedly  th 
greatest  ever  put  forth  here  or  on  this  continent.  Those 
efforts  produced  marked  effect  on  the  Senate ;  they  soothed 
the  public  mind,  and  became  enduring  lessons  of  instruc 
tion  to  our  countrymen  on  the  science  of  constitutional 
law,  and  the  relative  powers  and  responsibilities  of  the 
Government,  and  the  rights  and  duties  of  the  States  and 
of  citizens. 

Tried  by  ancient  definitions,  DANIEL  WEBSTER  was  not 
an  orator.  He  studied  no  art  and  practised  no  action.  Nor 
did  he  form  himself  by  any  admitted  model.  He  had 
neither  the  directness  and  vehemence  of  Demosthenes,  nor 
the  fulness  nor  flow  of  Cicero,  nor  the  intenseness  of  Mil 
ton,  nor  the  magnificence  of  Burke.  It  was  happy  for  him 
that  he  had  not.  The  temper  and  tastes  of  his  age  and 
country  required  eloquence  different  from  all  these ;  and 
they  found  it  in  the  pure  logic  and  the  vigorous  yet  mass 
ive  rhetoric  which  constituted  the  style  of  DANIEL  WEB 
STER. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER,  although  a  statesman,  did  not  aim  to 
be  either  a  popular  or  a  parliamentary  leader.  He  left 
common  affairs  and  questions  to  others,  and  reserved  him 
self  for  those  great  and  infrequent  occasions  which  seemed 
to  involve  the  prosperity  or  the  continuance  of  the  Re 
public.  On  these  occasions  he  rose  above  partisan  in- 

39 


458  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

fluences  and  alliances,  and  gave  his  counsels  earnestly,  and 
with  impassioned  solemnity,  and  always  with  an  unaf 
fected  reliance  upon  the  intelligence  and  virtue  of  his 
countrymen. 

The  first  revolutionary  assembly  that  convened  in  Bos 
ton  promulgated  the  principle  of  the  revolution  of  1688 — 
"  Resistance  to  unjust  laws  is  obedience  to  God  ;"  and  it 
became  the  watchword  throughout  the  colonies.  Under 
that  motto  the  colonies  dismembered  the  British  Empire, 
and  erected  the  American  Republic.  At  an  early  day,  it 
seemed  to  DANIEL  WEBSTER  that  the  habitual  cherishing 
of  that  principle,  after  its  great  work  had  been  consum 
mated,  threatened  to  subvert,  in  its  turn,  the  free  and 
beneficent  Constitution,  which  afforded  the  highest  attain 
able  security  against  the  passage  of  unjust  laws.  He  ad 
dressed  himself  therefore  assiduously,  and  almost  alone, 
to  what  seemed  to  him  the  duty  of  calling  the  American 
people  back  from  revolutionary  theories  to  the  formation 
of  habits  of  peace,  order,  and  submission  to  authority.  He 
inculcated  the  duty  of  submission  by  States  and  citizens  to 
all  laws  passed  within  the  province  of  constitutional  au 
thority,  and  of  absolute  reliance  on  constitutional  remedies 
for  the  correction  of  all  errors  and  the  redress  of  all  in 
justice.  This  was  the  political  gospel  of  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 
He  preached  it  in  season  and  out  of  season,  boldly,  con 
stantly,  with  the  zeal  of  an  apostle,  and  with  the  devotion, 
if  there  were  need,  of  a  martyr.  It  was  full  of  saving 
influences  while  he  lived,  and  those  influences  will  last  so 
long  as  the  Constitution  and  the  Union  shall  endure. 

I  do  not  dwell  on  DANIEL  WEBSTER'S  exercise  of  ad 
ministrative  functions.  It  was  marked  by  the  same  ability 
that  distinguished  all  his  achievements  in  other  fields  of 
duty.  It  was  at  the  same  time  eminently  conservative  of 
peace,  and  of  the  great  principles  of  constitutional  liberty, 
on  which  the  republican  institutions  of  his  country  were 
founded.  But  while  those  administrative  services  benefited 
his  country,  and  increased  his  fame,  we  jll  relt,  neverthe 
less,  that  his  proper  and  highest  place  was  Aiere.  where 
there  was  field  and  scope  for  his  philosophy  and  his  elo 
quence — here,  among  the  equal  representatives  of  equal 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  459 

t 

States,  which  were  at  once  to  be  held  together,  and  to  be 
moved  on  in  the  establishment  of  a  continental  power  con 
trolling  all  the  American  States,  and  balancing  those  of 
the  Eastern  world ;  and  we  could  not  but  exclaim,  in  the 
words  of  the  Roman  orator,  when  we  saw  him  leave  the 
legislative  councils  to  enter  on  the  office  of  administration — 

"  Quantis  in  angustiis,  vestra  gloria  se  dilitari  velit." 


V. 

MR.  STOCKTON. 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  I  was  prevented  from  coming  to  Wash 
ington  until  this  morning.  After  travelling  all  night,  I 
hastened  here  to  take  my  seat,  wholly  unapprized  of  the 
intention  of  the  Senator  from  Massachusetts  to  introduce 
the  resolutions  now  before  the  Senate. 

It  would,  therefore,  not  become  me,  nor  the  solemnity 
of  the  occasion,  to  mingle,  unprepared  as  I  needs  must  be, 
my  voice  in  the  eloquent  lamentation  which  does  honor  to 
the  Senate,  for  any  other  purpose  than  merely  briefly  to 
express  my  grief — my  sorrow — my  heartfelt,  unaffected 
sorrow  for  the  death  of  Daniel  Webster. 

Senators,  I  have  known  and  loved  Daniel  Webster  for 
thirty  years.  What  wonder,  then,  I  sorrow  ?  But  now 
that  I  am  on  my  feet  for  that  purpose — and  the  Senate, 
who  knew  and  loved  him  too,  are  my  listeners — how  am  I 
to  express  that  sorrow  ?  I  cannot  do  it.  It  cannot  be  done. 
Oh  !  sir,  all  words,  in  moments  such  as  these,  when  love  or 
grief  seek  utterance,  are  vain  and  frigid. 

Senators,  I  can  even  now  hardly  realize  the  event — that 
Daniel  Webster  is  DEAD — that  he  does  not  "still  live." 

I  did  hope  that  God — who  has  watched  over  this  Re 
public — who  can  do  all  things — "who  hung  the  Earth  on 
nothing" — who  so  endowed  the  mind  of  Daniel  Webster — 
would  still  longer  have  upheld  its  frail  tenement,  and  kept 


460  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

him  as  an  example  to  our  own  men,  and  to  the  men  of  the 
whole  world. 

Indeed,  it  is  no  figure  of  speech,  when  we  say  that  his 
fame  was  "world- wide." 

But,  Senators,  I  have  risen  to  pronounce  no  eulogy  on 
him.  I  am  up  for  no  such  vain  purpose.  I  come  with  no 
ceremony.  I  come  to  the  portals  of  his  grave,  stricken 
with  sadness — before  the  assembled  Senate — in  the  pre 
sence  of  friends  and  Senators — (for  whether  they  be  of  this 
side  of  the  Chamber  or  the  other  side  of  the  Chamber,  I 
hope  I  am  entitled  to  call  every  Senator  my  friend) — to 
mingle  my  grief  with  the  grief  of  those  around  me.  But 
I  cherish  no  hope  of  adding  one  gravel-stone  to  the  colossal 
column  he  has  erected  for  himself.  I  would  only  place  a 
garland  of  friendship  on  the  bier  of  one  of  the  greatest 
and  best  men  I  ever  knew. 

Senators,  you  have  known  Mr.  Webster  in  his  public 
character — as  a  statesman  of  almost  intuitive  perceptions 
— as  a  lawyer  of  unsurpassed  learning  and  ability — as  a 
ripe  and  general  scholar.  But  it  was  my  happiness  to 
know  him,  also,  as  a  man  in  the  seclusion  of  private  life ; 
and  in  the  performance  of  sacred  domestic  duties,  and  of 
those  of  reciprocal  friendship,  I  say,  in  this  presence,  and 
us  far  as  my  voice  may  reach,  that  he  was  remarkable  for 
all  those  attributes  which  constitute  a  generous,  magnani 
mous,  courageous,  hospitable,  and  high-minded  man.  Sir, 
jis  far  as  my  researches  into  the  history  of  the  world  have 
gone,  they  have  failed  to  discover  his  superior.  Not  even 
on  the  records  of  ancient  Greece,  or  Rome,  or  of  any  other 
nation,  are  to  be  found  the  traces  of  a  man  of  superior 
endowments  to  our  own  Webster. 

Mr.  President,  in  private  life  he  was  a  man  of  pure  and 
noble  sentiments,  and  eminently  kind,  social,  and  agree 
able.  He  was  generous  to  a  fault.  Sir,  one  act  of  his, 
one  speech  of  his,  made  in  this  Chamber,  placed  him  before 
ail  men  of  antiquity.  He  offered  himself — yes,  you  all 
remember,  in  that  seat  there,  he  rose  and  offered  himself  a 
living  sacrifice  for  his  country.  And  Lord  Bacon  has  said, 
that  he  who  offers  himself  as  a  sacrifice  for  his  country,  is 
a  sight  for  angels  to  look  upon. 

Mr.  President,  my  feelings  on  this  occasion  will  not  sur- 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  461 

prise  Senators,  who  remember  that  these  are  no  new  senti 
ments  for  me — that  when  he  was  living,  I  had  the  temerity 
to  say  that  Daniel  Webster  was  the  greatest  among  men, 
and  a  true  patriot — ay,  sir !  when  the  expression  of  such 
opinions  might  have  interfered  with  political  aspirations 
imputed  to  me.  Well,  sir,  if  an  empire  had  then  been 
banging  on  my  words,  I  would  not  have  amended  or  altered 
one  sentiment. 

Having  said  thus  much  for  the  dead,  allow  me  to  express 
a  word  of  thanks  to  the  honorable  Senator  from  Michigan, 
(Mr.  Cass.)  Sir,  I  have  often  had  occasion  to  feel  senti 
ments  of  regard,  and,  if  he  will  permit  me  to  say  it,  of 
affectionate  regard,  for  him,  and  sometimes  to  express 
them  ;  but  the  emotions  created  in  my  heart  by  his  address 
this  morning  are  not  easily  expressed.  I  thank  him — in 
the  fulness  of  my  heart  I  thank  him  ;  and  may  God  spare 
him  to  our  country  many  years.  May  he  long  remain 
here,  in  our  midst,  as  he  is  at  this  day,  in  all  the  strength 
of  manhood,  and  in  all  the  glory  of  matured  wisdom. 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES, 

Wednesday,  December  15,  1852. 

THE  Journal  having  been  read, 

A  message  was  received  from  the  Senate  by  the  hands 
of  Asbury  Dickins,  Esq.,  its  Secretary,  which,  upon  re 
quest  of  Mr.  Davis,  of  Massachusetts,  was  read,  as  follows : 

Resolved,  That  the  Senate  has  received  with  profound 
sensibility  the  annunciation  from  the  President  of  the  death 
of  the  late  Secretary  of  State,  Daniel  Webster,  who  was 
long  a  highly  distinguished  member  of  this  body. 

Resolved,  That  the  Senate  will  manifest  its  respect  for 
the  memory  of  the  deceased,  and  its  sympathy  with  his 

3(J* 


462  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

bereaved  family,  by  wearing  the  usual  badge  of  mourning 
for  thirty  days. 

Resolved,  That  these  proceedings  be  communicated  to 
the  House  of  Representatives. 


VI. 

MR.  DAVIS. 

Mr.  SPEAKER:  I  rise  for  the  purpose  of  proposing 
Borne  action  of  this  House  in  response  to  that  which,  we 
learn,  has  taken  place  in  the  Senate  in  reference  to  the 
death  of  Mr.  Webster;  and  I  have  little  to  add  to  the 
proposition  itself  beyond  a  brief  expression  of  reverence 
and  of  affectionate  recollection.  At  this  seat  of  Govern 
ment,  where  thirty  years  of  Mr.  Webster's  life  were  spent 
— in  this  Capitol,  still  populous  with  the  echoes  of  his 
voice — to  this  House,  of  which  there  is  not  an  individual 
member  but  can  trace  something  of  his  intellectual  wealth, 
or  political  faith,  to  the  fountain  of  that  mighty  intellect- 
it  would  be  useless,  and  worse,  to  pass  in  review  the  various 
nets  of  spoken  and  written  thought  by  which  he  impressed 
himself  ineffaceably  upon  his  time.  Master  of  the  great 
original  ideas  of  which  our  social  institutions  are  but  the 
coarse  material  expression ;  master  of  a  style  which  clothed 
each  glorious  thought  in  a  garb  of  appropriate  beauty ; 
possessed  of  a  conquering  nature,  that,  u  like  the  west 
wind,  brought  the  sunshine  with  it,"  and  gave  us,  wherever 
he  was,  the  sense  of  security  and  power,  he  has  run  his 
appointed  race,  and  has  left  us  to  feel  that  our  day  of  life 
will  henceforth  be  more  wintry  now  that  that  light  has  been 
withdrawn. 

"  But  he  was  ours.     And  may  that  word  of  pride 
Drown,  with  its  lofty  tone,  pain's  bitter  cry!" 

I  have  no  intention  of  undertaking  here  to  measure  his 
labors  or  interpret  his  ideas ;  but  I  feel  tempted  to  say  that 
his  great  field  of  action — the  greatest  which  any  statesman 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  463 

can  have — was  in  undertaking  to  apply  general  principles 
to  an  artificial  and  complicated  system  ;  to  reconcile  liberty 
with  law;  to  work  out  the  advance  of  liberty  and  civiliza 
tion  through  and  under  the  rules  of  law  and  government; 
to  solve  that  greatest  problem  of  human  government,  how 
much  of  the  ideal  may  safely  be  let  into  the  practical. 

He  sought  these  objects,  and  he  sought  the  political 
power  which  would  enable  him  to  carry  out  these  objects, 
and  he  threw  into  the  struggle  the  great  passions  of  a  great 
nature — the  quidquid  vult,  valde  vult,  of  the  elder  Brutus. 
He  sought,  and  not  unsuccessfully,  to  throw  around  the 
cold  impersonal  idea  of  a  constitution  the  halo  of  love  and 
reverence  which  in  the  Old  World  gathers  round  the  dynasties 
of  a  thousand  years;  for,  in  the  attachment  thus  created, 
he  thought  he  saw  the  means  of  safety  and  permanence  for 
his  country.  His  large  experience  and  broad  forecast  gave 
him  notice  of  national  dangers  which  all  did  not  see,  as  the 
wires  of  the  electric  telegraph  convey  news  of  startling 
import,  unknown  to  the  slumbering  villages  through  which 
they  pass.  Whether  his  fears  were  well  or  ill  founded,  the 
future,  the  best  guardian  of  his  fame,  will  show ;  but 
whether  well  or  ill  founded  matters  nothing  now  to  him. 
He  has  passed  through  the  last  and  sternest  trial,  which  he 
has  himself  in  anticipation  described  in  words  never  to  be 
forgotten : 

"  One  may  live  (said  he)  as  a  conqueror,  a  hero,  or  a 
magistrate,  but  he  must  die  as  a  man.  The  bed  of  death 
brings  every  human  being  to  his  pure  individuality ;  to  the 
intense  contemplation  of  that,  the  deepest  and  most  solemn 
of  all  relations — the  relation  between  the  creature  and  his 
Creator.  Here  it  is  that  fame  and  renown  cannot  assist 
us ;  that  all  external  things  must  fail  to  aid  us  ;  that  friends, 
affection,  and  human  love  and  devotedness  cannot  succor 
us.  This  relation,  the  true  foundation  of  all  duty — a  rela 
tion  perceived  and  felt  by  conscience  and  confirmed  by 
revelation — our  illustrious  friend,  now  deceased,  always 
acknowledged.  He  reverenced  the  Scriptures  of  truth, 
honored  the  pure  morality  which  they  teach,  and  clung  to 
the  hopes  of  future  life  which  they  impart." 

Mr.  Webster  died  in  accordance  with  the  prevailing 
sentiment  of  his  life,  in  the  spirit  of  prayer  to  God,  and 


464  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

of  love  to  man.  Well  might  the  nation  that  watched  his 
dying  bed  say,  in  the  words  which  the  greatest  English 
poet  applies  to  a  legendary  hero  who  also  had  been  the 
stay  of  his  country  in  peril : 

"  Nothing  is  here  for  tears,  nothing  to  wail 
Or  knock  the  breast ;  no  weakness,  no  contempt, 
Dispraise  or  blame  :  nothing  but  well  and  fair, 
And  what  may  comfort  us  in  a  death  so  noble." 


VII. 

MR.  APPLETON,  of  Maine. 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  I  do  not  know  that  I  ought  to  add  any 
thing  to  what  has  already  been  said  upon  the  resolutions 
before  us;  yet,  since  the  death  of  Mr.  Webster  was  a 
national  calamity,  it  is  fit  that  all  classes  and  all  parties 
in  the  community  should  unite  to  testify  their  full  appre 
ciation  of  it.  The  people  themselves  have  admonished  us 
of  this,  as  they  have  gathered  recently  with  mournful  reve 
rence  around  his  tomb;  and  we  should  be  unworthy  of 
them,  if,  here  in  the  Capitol,  where  he  won  so  much  of  his 
fame,  we  did  not  add  our  tribute  to  his  memory.  It  is  a 
GREAT  MEMORY,  sir,  and  will  go  down  to  posterity,  as  one 
of  the  country's  heirlooms,  through  I  know  not  how  many 
successive  generations.  We  are  not  here,  Mr.  Speaker, 
to  build  his  monument.  He  builded  that  for  himself 
before  he  died ;  and,  had  he  failed  to  do  so,  none  among 
us  could  supply  the  deficiency.  We  are  here,  rather,  to 
recognise  his  labors,  and  to  inscribe  the  marble  with  his 
name. 

That  we  have  not  all  sympathized  with  him  in  his 
political  doctrines,  or  been  ready  to  sanction  every  trans 
action  of  his  public  life,  need  not,  and,  I  am  sure,  does  not, 
abate  any  thing  from  our  respect  for  his  services,  or  our 
regret  for  his  loss.  His  character  and  his  works, — what 
he  was  and  what  he  did, — constitute  a  legacy  which  no 
sound-hearted  American  can  contemplate  without  emotions 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  466 

of  gratitude  and  pride.  There  is  enough  of  Daniel 
Webster,  sir,  to  furnish  a  common  ground  upon  whicL 
all  his  countrymen  can  mingle  their  hearty  tributes  to  his 
memory. 

He  was  a  man  to  be  remarked  anywhere.  Among  a 
barbarous  people  he  would  have  excited  reverence  by  his 
very  look  and  mien.  No  one  could  stand  before  him 
without  knowing  that  he  stood  in  a  majestic  presence,  and 
admiring  those  lineaments  of  greatness  with  which  his 
Creator  had  enstamped,  in  a  manner  not  to  be  mistaken, 
his  outward  form.  If  there  ever  was  such  an  instance  on 
earth,  his  was  the  appearance  described  by  the  great 
dramatist  : 

"  The  combination  and  the  form  indeed, 
Where  every  god  did  see'm  to  set  his  seal, 
To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man." 

No  one  could  listen  to  him,  in  his  happier  moments, 
without  feeling  his  spirit  stirred  within  him  by  those  deep, 
cathedral  tones  which  were  the  fit  vehicles  of  his  grave  and 
earnest  thoughts. 

No  one  can  read  his  writings  without  being  struck  by 
the  wonderful  manner  in  which  they  unite  a  severe  sim 
plicity  of  style  with  great  warmth  of  fancy,  and  great 
affluence  of  diction. 

We,  Mr.  Speaker,  remember  his  look  and  his  spoken 
words ;  but,  by  those  who  are  to  come  after  us,  he  will  be 
chiefly  known  through  that  written  eloquence  which  is 
gathered  in  our  public  records,  and  enshrined  among  the 
pages  of  his  published  works.  By  these,  at  least,  he  still 
lives,  and  by  these,  in  my  judgment,  he  will  continue  to 
live,  after  these  pillars  shall  have  fallen,  and  this  Capitol 
shall  have  crumbled  into  ruin.  Demosthenes  has  survived 
the  Parthenon,  and  Tully  still  pleads  before  the  world  the 
cause  of  Roman  culture  and  Roman  oratory;  but  there  is 
nothing,  it  seems  to  me,  either  in  Tully  or  in  Demosthenes, 
which,  for  conception,  or  language,  or  elevation  of  senti 
ment,  can  exceed  some  passages  in  the  writings  which 
remain  of  Daniel  Webster.  His  fame,  indeed,  is  secure, 
for  it  is  guarded  by  his  own  works ;  and,  as  he  himself 
said  of  Mr.  Calhoun,  "  he  has  lived  long  enough, — he  has 


466  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

done  enough,  and  he  has  done  it  so  well,  so  successfully, 
so  honorably,  as  to  connect  himself  for  all  time  with  the 
records  of  his  country." 

In  no  respect,  Mr.  Speaker,  is  this  an  occasion  of 
lamentation  for  him.  Death  was  not  meant  to  be  regarded 
as  an  evil,  or  else  it  would  not  come  alike  to  all ;  and 
about  Mr.  Webster's  death  there  were  many  circum 
stances  of  felicity  and  good  fortune.  He  died  in  the 
maturity  of  his  intellect,  after  long  public  service,  and 
after  having  achieved  a  great  name  for  himself,  and  a 
great  memory  for  his  country.  He  died  at  home ;  his 
last  wants  supplied  by  the  hands  of  affection;  his  last 
hours  cheered  by  the  consolations  of  friendship;  amidst 
those  peaceful  scenes  which  he  had  himself  assisted  to 
make  beautiful,  and  within  hearing  of  that  ocean-anthem 
to  which  he  always  listened  with  emotions  of  gratitude  and 
joy.  He  died,  too,  conscious  of  the  wonderful  growth  and 
prosperity  and  glory  of  his  native  land.  His  eloquent 
prayer  had  been  answered — the  prayer  which  he  breathed 
forth  to  Providence  at  the  greatest  era  of  his  life,  when  he 
stood  side  by  sid^  with  Andrew  Jackson,  and  they  both 
contended  for  what  was,  in  their  belief,  the  cause  of  the 
Constitution  and  the  Union. 

I  pause,  Mr.  Speaker,  at  the  combination  of  those  two 
names.  Andrew  Jackson  and  Daniel  Webster!  Daniel 
Webster  and  Andrew  Jackson!  With  the  clear  intellect 
and  glorious  oratory  of  the  one,  added  to  the  intuitive 
sagacity  and  fate-like  will  of  the  other,  I  will  not  ask 
what  wrong  is  there  which  they  could  not  successfully 
crush,  but  what  right  is  there,  rather,  which  could  with 
stand  their  united  power  ? 

"When  my  eyes,"  he  said  on  that  great  occasion,  "are 
turned  to  behold  for  the  last  time  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I 
not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and  dishonored  frag 
ments  of  a  once  glorious  Union;  on  States  dissevered,  dis 
cordant,  belligerent ;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds,  or 
drenched,  it  may  be,  with  fraternal  blood.  Let  their  last 
feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather  behold  the  gorgeous 
ensign  of  the  republic,  now  known  and  honored  throughout 
the  earth,  still  full  high  advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies 
Streaming  in  their  original  lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  or 


OBITUARY    ADDRESSES.  467 

polluted,  nor  a  single  star  obscured,  bearing  for  its  motto 
no  such  miserable  interrogatory  as  'What  is  all  this 
worth?'  nor  those  other  words  of  delusion  and  folly, 
'Liberty  first  and  union  afterward;'  but  everywhere, 
spread  all  over  in  characters  of  living  light,  blazing  on  all 
its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the 
land,  and  in  every  wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  that 
other  sentiment,  dear  to  every  American  heart,  'Liberty 
and  union,  now  and  forever,  one  and  inseparable.'  '  Sir, 
Mr.  Webster  outlived  the  crisis  of  1880,  and  saw  his 
country  emerge  in  safety,  also,  from  that  later  tempest  of 
sectional  disturbance,  whose  waters  are  even  yet  heaving 
with  the  swell  of  subdued  but  not  exhausted  passion.  He 
left  this  nation  great,  prosperous,  and  happy;  and,  more 
than  that,  he  left  the  Constitution  and  the  Union  in 
vigorous  existence,  under  whose  genial  influences  all  that 
glory,  and  prosperity,  and  happiness,  he  knew,  had  been 
achieved.  To  preserve  them,  he  had  risked  what  few  men 
have  to  risk — his  reputation,  his  good  name,  his  cherished 
friendships ;  and  if  there  be  any  who  doubt  the  wisdom  of 
his  7th  of  March  speech,  let  them  consider  the  value  of 
these  treasures,  and  they  will  at  least  give  him  credit  for 
patriotism  and  sincerity.  But  I  am  unwilling,  Mr.  Speaker, 
to  dwell  upon  this  portion  of  his  career.  The  fires  of  that 
crisis  have  subsided,  but  their  ashes  are  yet  warm  with 
recent  strife.  What  Mr.  Webster  did,  and  the  other 
great  men  with  whom  he  labored,  to  extinguish  those  fires, 
has  gone  into  the  keeping  of  history,  and  they  have  found 
their  best  reward  in  the  continued  safety  of  the  republic. 

Our  anxiety  need  not  be  for  them.  When  the  mariner 
is  out  upon  the  ocean,  and  sees,  one  by  one,  the  lights 
of  heaven  go  out  before  the  rising  storm,  he  does  not  ask 
what  has  become  of  those  lights,  or  whether  they  shall 
renew  their  lustre ;  but  his  inquiry  is,  what  is  to  become 
of  me,  and  how  am  I  to  guide  my  bark  in  safety,  after 
these  natural  pilots  of  the  sky  have  disappeared?  Yet 
even  then,  by  consulting  those  calculations  and  directions 
which  wise  and  skilful  men  had  prepared  when  the  light 
did  shine,  and  there  wras  no  tempest  raging  upon  the  sea, 
he  is  enabled,  it  may  be,  to  grope  his  way  in  safety  to  his 
desired  port.  And  this,  sir,  is  our  consolation  upon  occa- 


468  OBITUARY    ADDRESSES. 

sions  like  the  present  one.  Jackson,  and  Calhonn,  and 
Clay,  and  Wright,  and  Polk,  and  Woodbury,  and  Webster, 
are  indeed  no  more ;  and  if  all  that  they  thought,  arid  said, 
and  did — their  wise  conceptions,  and  their  heroic  deeds, 
and  their  bright  examples — were  buried  with  them,  how 
terribly  deepened  would  now  be  our  sense  of  the  nation's 
loss,  and  how  much  less  hopeful  the  prospects  of  republican 
liberty!  But  it  is  not  so.  "A  superior  and  commanding 
human  intellect,"  Mr.  Webster  has  himself  told  us,  "a 
truly  great  man,  when  Heaven  vouchsafes  so  rare  a  gift,  is 
not  a  temporary  flame,  burning  brightly  for  a  while,  and 
then  giving  place  to  returning  darkness.  It  is  rather  a 
spark  of  fervent  heat,  as  well  as  radiant  light,  with  power 
to  enkindle  the  common  mass  of  human  mind ;  so  that 
when  it  glimmers  in  its  own  decay,  and  finally  goes  out  in 
death,  no  night  follows,  but  it  leaves  the  world  ail  light,  all 
on  fire,  from  the  potent  contact  of  its  own  spirit."  No, 
sir,  our  great  men  do  not  wholly  die.  All  that  they 
achieved  worthy  of  remembrance  survives  them.  They 
live  in  their  recorded  actions ;  they  live  in  their  bright 
examples ;  they  live  in  the  respect  and  gratitude  of  man 
kind;  and  they  live  in  that  peculiar  influence  by  which 
one  single  commanding  thought,  as  it  runs  along  the 
electric  chain  of  human  affairs,  sets  in  motion  still  other 
thoughts  and  influences,  in  endless  progression,  and  thus 
makes  its  author  an  active  and  powerful  agent  in  the 
events  of  life,  long  after  his  mortal  portion  shall  have 
crumbled  in  the  tomb. 

Let  us  thank  God  for  this  immortality  of  worth,  and 
rejoice  in  every  example  which  is  given  to  us  of  what  our 
nature  is  capable  of  accomplishing.  Let  it  teach  us,  not 
despair,  but  courage,  and  lead  us  to  follow  in  its  light,  at 
however  great  a  distance,  and  with  however  unequal  steps 
This  is  the  lesson  of  wisdom,  as  well  as  of  poetry. 

"  Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us 
We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 
Footprints  on  the  sands  of  Time  ; 

"  Footprints  that  perhaps  another, 
Sailing  o'er  life's  solemn  main, 
A  forlorn  and  shipwreck' d  brother, 
Seeing,  may  take  heart  again." 


OBITUARY    ADDRESSES.  469 

When  God  shall  send  his  Angel  to  ws,  Mr.  Speaker, 
bearing  the  scroll  of  death,  may  we  be  able  to  bow  our 
heads  to  his  mission  with  as  much  of  gentleness  and  resig 
nation  as  marked  the  last  hours  of  DANIEL  WEBSTER  ! 


VIII. 

MR.  PRESTON. 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  I  have  been  requested,  by  some  of  the 
gentlemen  who  compose  the  delegation  from  my  State,  to 
make  some  remarks  upon  the  subject  of  the  message  and 
resolutions  received  from  the  Senate,  which  have  been  laid 
upon  your  table  this  morning,  in  relation  to  the  death  of 
Mr.  Webster.  It  was,  in  their  opinion,  peculiarly  appro 
priate  that  Kentucky — a  State  so  long  associated  with 
Massachusetts  in  political  sympathy,  as  well  as  in  reciprocal 
admiration  entertained  for  two  of  the  most  eminent  men 
of  their  day — should  come  forward  and  add  her  testimonial 
of  the  esteem  in  which  she  held  his  life  and  great  public 
services,  and  the  regret  she  experienced  at  the  calamity 
which  has  befallen  the  country.  The  mind  naturally  goes 
back,  in  looking  over  the  great  career  of  Daniel  Webster, 
to  the  period  of  his  birth — seventy  years  ago.  In  the 
northern  part  of  the  State  of  New  Hampshire,  beneath 
the  roof  of  his  pioneer  father,  the  future  statesman  first 
drew  the  breath  of  life,  and  imbibed,  amid  its  picturesque 
scenery  and  wild  mountains,  that  freedom  of  thought,  that 
dignity,  and  that  intellectual  health  which  left  so  indelible 
a  mark  upon  his  oratory  and  public  career  in  after-life.  No 
man  has  earned  a  greater  reputation,  in  the  present  time, 
in  forensic  endeavor,  than  Mr.  Webster,  nor  any  whose 
reputation  could  challenge  comparison,  unless  it  be  one  who 
was  also  born  in  a  similar  obscure  station  of  life,  amid  the 
marshes  of  Hanover,  and  whose  future  led  him  to  cross  the 
summit  of  the  Appalachian  range  with  the  great  tide  of 
population  which  poured  from  Virginia  upon  the  fertile 

40 


470  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

plains  of  Kentucky.  Their  destiny  has  been  useful,  great, 
and  brilliant.  From  that  period  to  this,  these  celebrated 
contemporaries  have  been  conspicuous  in  the  career  of 
public  utility  to  which  they  devoted  their  lives,  and  by 
their  intellectual  superiority  and  dignified  statesmanship 
have  commanded  not  only  the  respect  of  their  several 
States,  but  of  the  nation  and  of  mankind.  For  forty  years 
they  swayed  the  councils  of  their  country,  and  the  same 
year  sees  them  consigned  to  the  grave.  The  statesman  of 
Ashland  died  in  this  city,  before  the  foliage  of  summer  was 
sere,  and  was  sent,  with  the  honors  of  his  country,  back  to 
the  resting-place  which  he  now  occupies  in  the  home  of  his 
early  adoption.  The  winds  of  autumn  have  swept  the  stern 
New  England  shores — the  shores  of  Plymouth,  where  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers  landed — and  caught  up  the  expiring  breath 
of  Daniel  Webster  as  he  terminated  his  life  of  honorable 
service.  The  dirges  that  the  night-winds  now  utter  through 
the  primeval  forests  of  Ashland  lament  for  one ;  the  surges 
of  the  wintry  ocean,  as  they  beat  upon  the  shores  of  Marsh- 
field,  are  a  fitting  requiem  to  the  other. 

There  are  two  points  of  particular  prominence  in  the  life 
of  Webster  to  which  I  will  allude.  All  remember  the 
celebrated  struggle  of  1880.  The  greatest  minds  of  the 
country,  seeing  the  constitutional  questions  involved  from 
different  points  of  view,  were  embroiled  in  controversy. 
The  darkest  apprehensions  were  entertained.  A  gallant 
and  gifted  Senator  from  South  Carolina,  (General  Hayne,) 
with  a  genius  and  fire  characteristic  of  the  land  of  his 
birth,  had  expressed  the  views  of  his  party  with  great 
ability,  and,  as  it  was  thought,  with  irresistible  eloquence. 
The  eyes  of  the  country  were  directed  to  Webster  as  the 
champion  of  the  Constitution  and  the  Union.  Crowds  of 
beautiful  women  and  anxious  men  on  that  day  thronged 
the  other  wing  of  this  Capitol.  What  patriotic  heart  in 
the  nation  has  yet  forgotten  that  noble  and  memorable 
reply  ?  A  deep  and  enthusiastic  sentiment  of  admiration 
and  respect  thrilled  through  the  heart  of  the  people,  and 
even  yet  the  triumph  of  that  son  of  New  England  is  con 
secrated  in  the  memory  of  his  countrymen.  Subsequently, 
the  Chief  Magistrate  of  the  Union,  President  Jackson, 
announced  opinions  of  a  similar  character  in  his  celebrated 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  471 

Proclamation,  and  men  of  all  parties  felt  that  a  new  ram 
part  had  been  erected  for  the  defence  of  the  Constitution. 
At  a  period  more  recent,  within  the  remembrance  of  all, 
Daniel  Webster  again  appeared  in  another  critical  emer 
gency  that  imperilled  the  safety  of  the  Republic.  It  was 
the  7th  of  March,  1850.  Excited  by  the  Territorial  ques 
tion,  the  spirit  of  fanaticism  broke  forth  with  fearful  vio 
lence  from  the  North.  But  it  did  not  shake  his  undaunted 
soul.  He  gazed  with  majestic  serenity  at  the  storm,  and, 
sublime  in  his  self-reliance,  as  Virgil  describes  Mezentius 
surrounded  by  his  enemies, 

"  He,  like  a  solid  rock  by  seas  enclosed, 
To  raging  winds  and  roaring  waves  exposed, 
From  his  proud  summit  looking  down,  disdains 
Their  empty  menace,  and  unmoved  remains." 

A  great  portion  of  the  fame  of  Daniel  Webster  rests 
upon  the  events  of  that  day,  and  his  patriotism  having 
endured  the  tempest,  his  reputation  shone  with  fresh  lustre 
after  it  had  passed.  Clay  and  Webster  on  that  day  stood 
linked  hand  in  hand,  and  averted  the  perils  that  menaced 
their  common  country.  In  the  last  great  act  of  their  lives 
in  the  Senate,  they  drew  closer  the  bonds  of  union  between 
the  North  and  South,  like  those  lofty  Cordilleras  that, 
stretching  along  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  bind  in  indis 
soluble  bonds  Northern  and  Southern  America,  and  alike 
beat  back  from  their  rocky  sides  the  fury  of  either  ocean. 
These,  Mr.  Speaker  and  gentlemen  of  the  House,  are  the 
memories  that  make  us  in  our  Western  homes  revere  the 
names  of  Clay  and  Webster. 

The  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  (Mr.  Davis,)  in  his 
eloquent  tribute  to  the  genius  and  fame  of  Daniel  Web 
ster,  has  chosen  to  apply  to  him  the  remark  by  which 
Cicero  characterizes  Brutus — "  Quidquid  vult,  valde  vult." 
If  he  will  pardon  me,  I  think  the  description  applied  by 
the  great  orator  whom  he  has  quoted  to  Gracchus  is  more 
striking:  "JEloqv&ntia  quidem  nescio  an  habuisset  parem : 
grandis  est  verbis,  sapiens  sententiis,  genere  toto  gravis" 
If,  however,  a  resemblance  prevailed  in  this  respect  between 
Cams  Gracchus  and  Webster,  it  did  not  in  others.  Gracchus, 
as  we  are  told,  was  the  first  lloman  orator  who  turned  his 


472  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

back  to  the  capitol  and  his  face  to  the  people;  the  popular 
orators  of  Rome,  anterior  to  that  time,  having  always 
turned  their  faces  to  the  Senate  and  their  backs  to  the 
Forum.  Webster  never  sought  to  subvert  the  judgment 
of  the  people  by  inflaming  their  passions.  His  sphere  was 
among  men  of  intellect.  His  power  was  in  convincing  the 
minds  of  the  cultivated  and  intellectual,  rather  than  by 
fervid  harangues  to  sway  the  ignorant  or  excite  the  multi 
tude.  Clay — bold,  brilliant,  and  dashing,  rushing  at  results 
with  that  intuition  of  common  sense  that  outstrips  all  the 
processes  of  logic — always  commanded  the  heart  and  di 
rected  the  action  of  his  party.  Webster  seemed  deficient 
in  some  of  these  great  qualities,  but  surpassed  him  in  others. 
He  appeared  his  natural  auxiliary.  Clay,  the  most  bril 
liant  parliamentary  leader,  and  probably  unequalled,  save 
by  the  Earl  of  Chatham,  whom  he  resembled,  swept  with 
the  velocity  of  a  charge  of  cavalry  on  the  ranks  of  his 
opponents,  arid  often  won  the  victory  before  others  were 
prepared  for  the  encounter.  Webster,  with  his  array  of 
facts,  his  power  of  statement,  and  logical  deductions,  moved 
forward  like  the  disciplined  and  serried  infantry,  with  the 
measured  tread  of  deliberate  resolution  and  the  stately  air 
of  irresistible  power. 

Daniel  Webster  is  dead.  He  died  without  ever  having 
been  elevated  to  the  Presidency  of  the  nation.  Camillus, 
the  second  founder  of  Home,  never  enjoyed  the  Consulate; 
but  he  was  not  less  illustrious  because  he  was  not  rewarded 
by  the  fasces  and  the  consular  purple.  Before  the  lustre 
of  Webster's  renown,  a  merely  Presidential  reputation  must 
grow  pale.  He  has  not  only  left  a  reputation  of  unsurpassed 
lustre  in  the  Senate,  but  he  will  also  pass  down  to  posterity 
as  the  ablest  and  most  profound  jurist  of  his  day.  As  an 
orator,  he  had  not,  as  has  been  correctly  observed  by  a 
Senator  from  New  York,  the  vehemence  of  Demosthenes, 
nor  the  splendor  of  Cicero ;  but  still  Daniel  Webster  was 
an  orator — an  orator  marked  by  the  characteristics  of  the 
Teutonic  race — bold,  massive,  and  replete  with  manly  force 
and  vigor.  His  writings  are  marked  by  a  deep  philosophy 
which  will  cause  them  to  be  read  when  the  issues  that  evoked 
them  have  passed  away,  and  the  splendor  of  an  imagination, 
almost  as  rich  as  that  of  Burke,  will  invest  them  with  at* 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  473 

tractions  alike  for  the  political  scholar  and  the  man  of 
letters. 

We  should  not  deplore  the  death  of  Webster.  It  is  true 
the  star  has  shot  from  the  sphere  it  illuminated,  and  is  lost 
in  the  gloom  of  death  ;  but  he  sank  full  of  years  and  honors, 
after  he  had  reached  the  verge  of  human  life,  and  before 
his  majestic  intellect  was  dimmed  or  his  body  bowed  down 
by  old  age.  He  did  not  sink  into  his  grave,  like  Marlbo- 
rough,  amid  the  mists  of  dotage ;  but  he  went  while  his 
intellect  was  unclouded,  and  the  literary  remembrances  of 
his  youth  came  thronging  to  the  dying  bed  of  their  votary. 
Napoleon,  when  he  was  expiring  at  St.  Helena,  muttered 
disconnected  words  of  command  and  battle,  that  showed 
his  turbulent  mind  still  struggled  in  imaginary  conflicts ; 
but  gentler  spirits  brought  to  the  death-bed  of  the  states 
man  of  Marshfield  more  consoling  memories  as  he  mur 
mured, 

"  The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day," 

and  all  the  tender  and  mournful  beauties  of  that  inimitable 
elegy  clustered  around  his  soul. 

But,  sir,  I  will  not  venture  to  say  more  on  this  theme. 
I  have  said  thus  much  in  the  name  of  my  native  State,  to 
testify  her  veneration  for  worth,  patriotism,  and  departed 
greatness,  and  to  add  with  proper  reverence  a  handful  of 
earth  to  the  mound  a  nation  raises  to  the  memory  of  the 
GREAT  SECRETARY,  and  to  say,  Peace  be  to  the  manes  of 
Webster. 


IX. 

MR.  SEYMOUR,  of  New  York,  said:— 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  I  rise  in  support  of  the  resolutions 
offered  by  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  and  in  that 
connection  propose  to  submit  a  few  remarks. 

Sir,  our  great  men  are  the  common  property  of  the 
country.  In  the  days  of  our  prosperity,  we  boast  of  their 


474  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

genius  and  enterprise  as  they  advance  the  general  weal.  In 
the  hour  of  a  nation's  peril,  the  shadow  of  their  great  name 
is  the  gathering-point,  whither  we  all  turn  for  guidance  and 
defence ;  and  whether  their  laurels  have  been  gathered  on 
the  battle-field,  in  sustaining  our  rights  against  hostile 
nations — in  the  halls  of  legislation,  devising  and  enacting 
those  wise  and  beneficent  laws  which,  by  developing  the 
resources,  instructing  the  mind,  and  directing  the  energies 
of  the  nation,  may  be  traced  on  the  frame-work  of  society 
long  after  their  authors  have  ceased  to  exist — or  in  the 
temple  of  justice  or  the  sacred  desk,  regulating  the  jarring 
elements  of  civil  life,  and  making  men  happier  and  better 
— they  are  all  parts  of  one  grand  exhibition,  showing, 
through  all  coming  time,  what  the  men  of  the  present  age 
and  of  our  nation  have  done  for  the  elevation  and  advance 
ment  of  our  race.  To  chronicle  these  results  of  human 
effort,  and  to  transmit  them  to  future  ages,  is  the  province 
of  history.  In  her  temple,  the  great  and  the  good  are 
embalmed.  There  they  may  be  seen  and  read  by  all  those 
who,  in  future  generations,  shall  emulate  their  great  deeds. 
Time,  whose  constant  flow  is  continually  obliterating  and 
changing  the  physical  and  social  relations  of  all  things, 
cannot  efface  the  landmarks  which  they  have  raised  along 
the  pathway  of  life.  The  processes  by  which  they  attained 
the  grand  result,  and  the  associations  by  which  they  at  the 
time  were  surrounded,  are  unknown  or  forgotten,  while  we 
contemplate  the  monuments  which  their  genius  and  heroism 
have  raised. 

Who  that  reads  the  story  of  the  battle  of  Marathon,  by 
which  the  liberties  of  Athens  were  rescued  from  Persian 
despotism,  stops  to  inquire  to  what  party  in  that  republic 
Miltiades  belonged?  Who  that  listens  to  the  thunders  of 
Demosthenes,  as  he  moves  all  Greece  to  resist  the  common 
enemy,  attempts  to  trace  his  political  associations  ?  So  it 
will  be  in  the  future  of  this  republic.  The  battle  of  New 
Orleans  will  disclose  Jackson,  the  hero  and  the  patriot, 
saving  his  country  from  her  enemies.  The  debates  of  the 
Senate-Chamber  will  exhibit  Clay,  Calhoun,  and  Webster, 
illustrating  and  defending  the  great  principles  of  our 
Government  by  their  lofty  patriotism  and  eloquence.  On 
neither  picture  will  bo  observed  whatever  we  of  the  present 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  475 

time  may  judge  to  have  savored  of  the  mere  politician  and 
the  partisan.  We,  from  our  near  proximity,  may  see,  or 
think  we  see,  the  ill-shapen  rocks  and  the  unseemly 
caverns  which  disfigure  the  sides  of  these  mighty  Alpine 
peaks.  Future  ages  will  only  descry  their  ever-gilded 
summits 

"Who,  then,  shall  lightly  say  that  Fame 
Is  but  an  empty  name  ? 
When,  but  for  these  our  mighty  dead, 

All  ages  past  a  blank  would  be, 
Sunk  in  Oblivion's  murky  bed — 

A  desert  bare — a  shipless  sea. 
They  are  the  distant  objects  seen, 
The  lofty  marks  of  what  hath  been : 

Where  memory  of  the  mighty  dead, 
To  earth-worn  pilgrims'  wistful  eye 

The  brightest  rays  of  cheering  shed 
That  point  to  immortality." 

Sir,  I  shall  not  attempt  here  to  even  briefly  review  the 
public  life  or  delineate  the  true  character  of  Daniel 
Webster.  That  public  life,  extending  through  more  than 
forty  years  of  the  growth  and  progress  of  our  country,  will 
doubtless  be  sketched  by  those  of  his  compeers  who  have 
shared  with  him  in  his  public  service.  That  character, 
too,  will  best  be  drawn  by  those  intimate  friends  who 
knew  him  best,  and  who  enjoyed  the  most  favorable 
opportunities  for  observing  the  operations  of  his  giant 
mind. 

In  looking  at  what  he  has  achieved,  not  only  in  the 
fields  of  legislation,  but  in  those  of  literature  and  jurispru 
dence,  I  may  say  he  has  left  a  monument  of  his  industry 
and  genius  of  which  his  countrymen  may  well  be  proud. 
His  speeches  in  the  Senate  and  before  the  assemblies  of 
the  people,  and  his  arguments  before  our  highest  courts, 
taken  together,  form  the  most  valuable  contribution  to 
American  literature,  language,  and  oratory  which  it  has 
been  the  good  fortune  of  any  individual  to  have  yet  made. 
Were  I  to  attempt  it,  I  should  be  unable  to  determine  on 
which  of  the  varied  scenes  of  his  labors  his  genius  and 
talents  stood  pre-eminent. 

His  argument  in  the  Dartmouth  College  case  has  ever 
been  regarded  as  a  model  of  forensic  debate,  exhibiting 


476  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

the  rare  combination  of  the  dry  logic  of  the  law  with  the 
tender,  the  beautiful,  and  the  sublime.  His  address 
before  the  Historical  Society  of  New  York  not  only- 
exhibited  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  ancient  and 
modern  literature,  but  was  itself  a  gem  whose  brilliancy 
will  never  cease  to  attract,  even  by  the  side  of  the  great 
lights  of  the  literary  world.  The  speech  in  the  Senate  in 
reply  to  Hayne,  by  its  powerful  argumentation,  its  sub 
limity,  and  patriotic  fervor,  placed  him  at  once,  by  the 
common  consent  of  mankind,  in  the  front  rank  of  orators. 

But  I  cannot  on  this  occasion  review  a  life  replete  with 
incidents  at  once  evincing  the  workings  of  a  great  mind, 
and  marking  important  events  in  the  history  of  the 
country.  I  can  here  only  speak  of  his  labors  collectively. 
They  were  the  result  of  great  effort — grand  in  their  con 
ception,  effective  in  their  execution,  and  permanent  in 
their  influences. 

As  a  son  of  his  native  New  England,  I  am  proud  to 
refer  back  to  the  plain  and  unostentatious  manners,  the 
rigid  discipline,  and  the  early  and  thorough  mental  train 
ing  to  be  found  among  the  yeomanry  of  that  part  of  our 
country,  as  contributing  primarily  to  the  eminent  success 
of  Mr.  Webster  in  the  business  of  his  life.  Born,  reared, 
and  educated  among  the  granite  hills  of  New  Hampshire, 
although  his  attachments  to  the  place  of  his  birth  were 
strong  to  the  last,  yet,  upon  the  broad  theatre  upon  which 
he  was  called  to  act  his  part  as  a  public  man,  his  sympa 
thies  and  his  patriotism  were  bounded  only  by  the  confines 
of  the  whole  republic. 

Although,  in  common  with  many  of  us,  I  differed  in 
opinion  from  the  late  Secretary  of  State  upon  grave  poli 
tical  questions,  yet,  with  the  great  mass  of  our  fellow- 
citizens,  I  acknowledge  his  patriotism,  and  the  force  and 
ability  with  which  he  sustained  his  own  opinions.  How 
ever  we  may  view  those  opinions,  one  thing  will  be  con 
ceded  by  all :  his  feelings  were  thoroughly  American,  and 
his  aim  the  good  of  his  country.  In  his  whole  public  life, 
and  by  his  greatest  efforts  as  an  orator,  he  has  left  deeply 
impressed  on  the  American  mind  one  great  truth,  never  to 
be  forgotten — the  preservation  of  American  liberty  depends 
upon  the  support  of  the  Constitution  and  the  Union  oj 


OBITUARY  ADDRESSES.  477 

the  States.  To  have  thus  linked  his  name  indissolubly 
with  the  perpetuity  of  our  institutions  is  enough  of  glory 
for  any  citizen  of  the  republic. 


X. 

MR.  CHANDLER  said: 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  The  selection  of  the  present  time  to 
make  special  and  official  reference  to  the  death  of  Mr. 
Webster  may  be  regarded  as  fortunate  and  judicious.  An 
earlier  moment  would  have  exposed  our  eulogies  to  those 
exaggerations  which,  while  they  do  justice  in  some  mea 
sure  to  the  feelings  whence  they  spring,  are  no  proofs  of 
sound  judgment  in  the  utterer,  nor  sources  of  honor  to 
their  lamented  object.  The  great  departed  owe  little  to 
the  record  of  their  worth,  which  is  made  in  the  midst  of 
sudden  emotions,  when  the  freshness  of  personal  inter 
course  mingles  with  recollections  of  public  virtues,  and  the 
object  observed  through  the  tears  of  recent  sorrow,  bears 
with  it  the  prismatic  hues  which  distort  its  fair  proportions, 
and  hide  that  simplicity  which  is  the  characteristic  of  true 
greatness.  And  equally  just  is  it  to  the  dead  whom  we 
would  honor,  and  to  our  feelings  which  would  promote  that 
honor,  that  we  have  not  postponed  the  season  to  a  period 
when  time  would  so  have  mitigated  our  just  regret  as 
to  direct  our  eulogies  only  to  those  lofty  points  of  Mr. 
Webster's  character  which  strike  but  from  afar ;  which 
owe  their  distinction  less  to  their  affinities  with  public 
sympathy  than  to  their  elevation  above  ordinary  ascent 
and  ordinary  computation. 

That  distance,  too,  in  a  government  like  ours,  is  danger 
ous  to  a  just  homage  to  the  distinguished  dead,  however 
willing  may  be  the  survivor ;  for  smaller  objects  intervene, 
and  by  proximity  hide  the  proportions  which  we  survey 
from  afar,  and  diminish  that  just  appreciation  which  is 
necessary  to  the  honorable  praise  that  is  to  perpetuate 
public  fame. 


478  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

Mr.  Webster  was  a  distinguished  statesman, — tried,  sir, 
in  nearly  all  the  various  positions  which,  in  our  Govern 
ment,  the  civilian  is  called  on  to  fill,  and  in  all  these 
places  the  powers  of  a  gifted  mind,  strengthened  and  im 
proved  by  a  practical  education,  were  the  great  means  by 
which  he  achieved  success,  and  patriotism  the  motive  of 
their  devotion.  With  all  Mr.  Webster's  professional  great 
ness,  with  all  his  unrivalled  powers  in  the  Senate,  with  his 
great  distinction  as  a  diplomatist,  he  was  fond  of  credit  as 
a  scholar ;  and  his  attainments,  if  not  of  the  kind  which 
gives  eminence  to  merely  literary  men,  were  such  as  gave 
richness  and  terseness  to  his  own  composition,  and  vigor 
and  attraction  to  his  conversation.  His  mind  was  moulded 
to  the  strong  conception  of  the  epic  poet,  rather  than  the 
gentle  phrase  of  the  didactic  ;  and  his  preference  for  na 
tural  scenery  seemed  to  partake  of  his  literary  taste — it 
was  for  the  strong,  the  elevated,  the  grand.  His  child 
hood  and  youth  joyed  in  the  rough  sides  of  the  mountains 
of  New  Hampshire,  and  his  age  found  a  delightful  repose 
on  the  wild  shores  of  Massachusetts  Bay.  He  was  a  lover 
of  Nature,  not  in  her  holiday  suit  of  field  and  flower,  but 
in  those  wild  exhibitions  of  broken  coast  and  isolated  hills, 
that  seem  to  stir  the  mind  into  activity,  and  provoke  it 
into  emulation  of  the  grandeur  with  which  it  is  surrounded. 
Yet,  sir,  Mr.  Webster  had  with  him  much  of  the  gentleness 
which  gives  beauty  to  social  life,  and  dignity  and  attrac 
tion  to  the  domestic  scene,  just  as  the  rugged  coast  is 
often  as  placid  as  the  gentlest  lake,  and  the  summit  of  the 
roughest  hill  is  frequently  bathed  in  the  softest  sunlight, 
and  clad  in  flowers  of  the  most  delicate  hues.  Mr.  Web 
ster's  person  was  strongly  indicative  of  the  character  of 
his  mind ;  not  formed  for  the  lighter  graces,  but  graceful 
in  the  noblest  uses  of  manhood;  remarkable  in  the  state- 
liness  of  his  movements,  and  dignified  in  the  magnificence 
of  its  repose.  Mr.  Webster  could  scarcely  pass  unnoticed, 
even  where  unknown.  There  was  that  in  his  mien  which 
attracted  attention,  and  awakened  interest;  and  his  head, 
(whether  his  countenance  was  lighted  by  a  smile,  such  as 
only  he  could  give,  or  fixed  by  contemplation,  such  as  only 
he  could  indulge)  seemed  an 


OBITUARY  ADDRESSES.  479 

"arch'd  and  ponderous  roof, 
By  its  own  weight  made  steadfast  and  immovable, 

Looking  tranquillity  !" 

With  all  Mr.  Webster's  lofty  gifts  and  attainments,  he 
was  ambitious.  Toiling  upward  from  the  base  of  the  poli 
tical  ladder,  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  he  desired  to  set  his 
foot  upon  the  utmost  round.  This  could  not  have  been  a 
thirst  for  power :  nothing  of  a  desire  for  the  exercise  of 
absolute  authority  could  have  been  in  that  aspiration  ;  for 
the  only  absolute  power  left  (if  any  be  left)  by  the  Consti 
tution  in  the  Executive  of  this  nation  is  "MERCY."  In 
Mr.  Webster  it  was  the  distinction  which  the  place  con 
ferred,  and  the  sphere  of  usefulness  it  presented.  He 
regarded  it  as  the  crowning  glory  of  his  public  life — a 
glory  earned  by  his  devotion  of  unparalleled  talents  and 
unsurpassed  statemanship.  This  ambition  in  Mr.  Webster 
was  modesty.  He  could  not  see,  as  othti*i  aaw  and  felt, 
that  no  political  elevation  was  necessary  to  the  completion 
of  his  fame  or  the  distinction  of  his  statesmanship.  It  was 
not  for  him  to  understand  that  the  l&et  round  of  political 
preferment,  honorable  as  it  is,  and  made  more  honorable 
by  the  lustre  which  purity  of  motive,  grea-t  talents,  and 
devoted  patriotism  are  now  sheddmg  down  upon  it, — he 
could  not  understand  that  preferment,  honorable  as  it  is, 
was  unnecessary  to  him ;  that  it  could  add  nothing  to  his 
political  stature,  nor  enlarge  the  horizon  of  his  comprehen- 
sive  views.  It  is  the  characteristic  of  men  of-  true  great 
ness,  of  exalted  talents,  to  comprehend  the  nature  and 
power  of  the  gifts  they  possess.  That,  sir,  is  a  homage 
to  God,  who  bestows  them.  But  it  is  also  their  mis 
fortune  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  means  and  opportuni 
ties  they  have  possessed  to  exercise  those  gifts  to  great 
national  purposes.  This  is  merely  distrust  of  them 
selves.  The  world,  sir,  comprehends  the  uses  of  the 
talents  of  great  statesmen,  and  gives  them  credit  for 
their  masterly  powers,  without  asking  that  those  powers 
should  be  tried  in  every  position  in  which  public  men  may 
be  placed. 

I  see  not  in  all  the  character,  gifts,  and  attainments  of 
Mr.  Webster,  any  illustration  of  the  British  orator's  ex 
clamation,  relative  to  "the  shadows  which  we  are;"  nor 


480  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

do  I  discover  in  the  splendid  career  and  the  aims  of  his 
lofty  ambition  any  thing  to  prove  "  what  shadows  we 
pursue." 

The  life  of  such  a  man  as  Daniel  Webster  is  one  of 
solid  greatness ;  and  the  objects  he  pursued  are  worthy  of 
a  being  made  in  the  image  of  God.  A  life  of  honorable 
distinction  is  a  substantive  and  permanent  object.  The 
good  of  man,  and  the  true  glory  and  happiness  of  his 
country,  are  the  substantial  things,  the  record  of  which 
generation  hands  down  to  generation,  inscribed  with  the 
name  of  him  who  pursued  them. 

I  will  not,  sir,  trespass  on  this  House  by  any  attempt  to 
sketch  the  character,  or  narrate  the  services  of  Mr.  Web 
ster  ;  too  many  will  have  a  share  in  this  day's  exercise  to 
allow  one  speaker  so  extensive  a  range.  It  is  enough  for 
me,  if,  in  obeying  the  indications  of  others,  I  give  to  my 
effort  the  tone  of  respect  with  which  the  statesman  and  the 
patriot,  Webster,  was  regarded,  as  well  by  the  nation  at 
large  as  by  those  whom  I  have  the  honor  to  represent  on 
this  floor.  And  in  the  remarks  of  those  whose  means  of 
judging  have  been  better  than  mine,  will  be  found  his  cha 
racteristics  of  social  and  domestic  life. 

How  keenly  Mr.  Webster  relished  the  relaxations  which 
public  duties  sometimes  allowed,  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
judging ;  for  he  loved  to  call  to  my  recollections  scenery 
which  had  been  familiar  to  me  in  childhood,  as  it  was 
lovely  to  him  in  age.  The  amusements,  in  which  he  grati 
fied  a  manly  taste  in  the  midst  of  that  scenery,  were  pro- 
motive  of  physical  recuperation,  rendered  necessary  by 
the  heavy  demands  of  professional  or  official  life.  He  was 
stimulated  to  thought  by  the  activity  which  the  pursuits  on 
land  required,  or  led  to  deep  contemplation  by  the  calm 
ness  of  the  ocean  on  which  he  rested.  Though  dying  in 
office,  Mr.  Webster  was  permitted  to  breathe  his  last  in, 
those  scenes  made  classical  to  others  by  his  uses,  and  dear 
to  him  by  their  ministrations  to,  and  correspondence  with, 
his  taste. 

The  good  of  his  country  undoubtedly  occupied  the  last 
moments  of  his  ebbing  life ;  but  those  moments  were  not 
disturbed  by  the  immediate  pressure  of  official  duties;  and 
in  the  dignity  of  domestic  quiet,  he  passed  onward ;  and 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  481 

while  at  a  distance  communities  awaited  in  grief  and  awe 
the  signal  of  his  departure,  the  deep  diapason  of  the  At 
lantic  wave,  as  it  broke  upon  his  own  shore,  was  a  fitting 
requiem  for  such  a  parting  spirit. 


XI. 

MR.  BAYLY,  of  Virginia,  remarked  : 

I  had  been,  sir,  nearly  two  years  a  member  of  Congress 
before  I  made  Mr.  Webster's  acquaintance.  About  that 
time  a  proceeding  was  instituted  here,  of  a  delicate  cha 
racter  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  and  incidentally  con 
cerning  an  eminent  constituent  and  friend  of  mine.  This 
circumstance  first  brought  me  into  intercourse  with  Mr. 
Webster.  Subsequently,  I  transacted  a  good  deal  of 
official  business  with  him,  some  of  it  also  of  a  delicate 
character.  I  thus  had  unusual  opportunities  of  forming 
an  opinion  of  the  man.  The  acquaintance  I  made  with 
him,  under  the  circumstances  to  which  I  have  referred, 
ripened  into  friendship.  It  is  to  these  circumstances  that 
I,  a  political  opponent,  am  indebted  for  the  honor,  as  I 
esteem  it,  of  having  been  requested  to  say  something  on 
this  occasion. 

From  my  early  manhood,  of  course,  sir,  I  have  been 
well  acquainted  with  Mr.  Webster's  public  character,  and 
I  had  formed  my  ideal  of  him  as  a  man ;  and  what  a  mis 
conception  of  it  was  that  ideal !  Rarely  seeing  him  in 
public  places,  in  familiar  intercourse  with  his  friends,  con 
templating  his  grave,  statue-like  appearance  in  the  Senate 
and  the  Forum,  I  had  formed  the  conception  that  he  was 
a  frigid,  iron-bound  man,  whom  few  could  approach  without 
constraint ;  and  I  undertake  to  say  that — until  of  kite 
years,  in  which,  through  personal  sketches  of  him  by  his 
friends,  the  public  has  become  acquainted  with  his  private 
character — such  was  the  idea  most  persons  who  knew  him 

41 


482  OBITUARY    ADDRESSES. 

only  as  I  did  formed  of  him.  Yet,  sir,  what  a  misconcep 
tion  !  No  man  could  appreciate  Mr.  Webster  who  did 
not  know  him  privately.  No  man  could  appreciate  him 
who  did  not  see  him  in  familiar  intercourse  with  his 
friends,  and  especially  around  his  own  fireside  and  table. 
There,  sir,  he  was  confiding,  gay,  and  sometimes  down 
right  boyish.  Full  of  racy  anecdotes,  he  told  them  in  the 
most  captivating  manner. 

Who  that  ever  heard  his  descriptions  of  men  and  things 
can  ever  forget  them  ?  Mr.  Webster,  sir,  attached  a  pe 
culiar  meaning  to  the  word  talk,  and  in  his  sense  of  the 
term  he  liked  to  talk ;  and  who  that  ever  heard  him  talk 
can  forget  that  talk  ?  Sometimes  it  was  the  most  playful 
wit,  then  the  most  pleasing  philosophy.  Mr.  Webster, 
sir,  owed  his  greatness,  to  a  large  extent,  to  his  native 
gifts. 

Among  his  contemporaries  there  were  lawyers  more 
learned,  yet  he  was,  by  common  consent,  assigned  the  first 
place  at  the  American  bar.  As  a  statesman,  there  were 
those  more  thoroughly  informed  than  he,  yet  what  states 
man  ranked  above  him  ?  Among  orators  there  were  those 
more  graceful  and  impressive,  yet  what  orator  was  greater 
than  he?  There  were  scholars  more  ripe,  yet  who  wrote 
better  English  ?  The  characteristics  of  his  mind  were 
massive  strength  and  classic  beauty,  combined  with  a  rare 
felicity.  His  favorite  studies,  if  I  may  judge  from  his 
conversations,  were  the  history  and  the  Constitution  of  his 
own  country,  and  the  history  and  the  Constitution  of  Eng 
land  ;  and  I  undertake  to  say  that  there  is  not  now  a  man 
living  who  was  more  perfectly  familiar  with  both.  His 
favorite  amusements,  too,  if  I  may  judge  in  the  same  way, 
were  field-sports  and  out-door  exercise.  I  have  frequently 
heard  Mr.  Webster  say,  if  he  had  been  a  merchant,  he 
would  have  been  an  out-door  partner.  Mr.  Webster  was, 
as  all  great  men  are,  eminently  magnanimous.  As  proof 
of  this,  see  his  whole  life,  arid  especially  that  crowning 
act  of  magnanimity, — his  letter  to  Mr.  Dickinson.  Mr. 
Webster  had  no"  envy  or  jealousy  about  him — as  no  great 
man  ever  had.  Conscious  of  his  own  powers,  he  envied 
those  of  no  one  else.  Mr.  Calhoun  and  himself  entered 
public  life  about  the  same  time ;  each  of  them  strove  for 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  483 

the  first  honors  of  the  Republic.  They  were  statesmen  of 
rival  schools.  They  frequently  met  in  the  stern  encounter 
of  debate,  and  when  they  met  the  conflict  was  a  conflict  of 
giants.  Yet  how  delightful  it  was  to  hear  Mr.  Webster 
speak,  as  I  have  heard  him  speak,  in  the  most  exalted 
terms  of  Calhoun ;  and  how  equally  delightful  it  was  to 
hear  Mr.  Calhoun,  as  I  have  heard  him,  speak  in  like  terms 
of  Webster  !  On  one  occasion,  Mr.  Calhoun,  speaking  to 
me  of  the  characteristics  of  Webster  as  a  debater,  said 
that  he  was  remarkable  in  this — that  he  always  stated  the 
argument  of  his  antagonist  fairly,  and  boldly  met  it.  He 
said  he  had  even  seen  him  state  the  argument  of  his  oppo 
nent  more  forcibly  than  his  opponent  had  stated  it  himself; 
and,  if  he  could  not  answer  it,  he  would  never  undertake  to 
weaken  it  by  misrepresenting  it.  What  a  compliment  was 
this,  coming,  as  it  did,  from  his  great  rival  in  constitutional 
law  !  I  have  also  heard  Mr.  Calhoun  say  that  Mr.  Web 
ster  tried  to  aim  at  truth  more  than  any  statesman  of  his 
day. 

A  short  time  since,  Mr.  Speaker,  when  addressing  the 
House,  at  the  invitation  of  the  delegation  from  Kentucky, 
on  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Clay's  death,  I  used  this  lan 
guage^ 

u  Sir,  it  is  but  a  short  time  since  the  American  Congress 
buried  the  first  one  that  went  to  the  grave  of  that  great 
triumvirate,  (Calhoun.)  We  are  now  called  upon  to  bury 
another,  (Clay.)  The  third,  thank  God  !  still  lives ;  and 
long  may  he  live  to  enlighten  his  countrymen  by  his  wis 
dom,  and  set  them  the  example  of  exalted  patriotism. 
[Alas  !  how  little  did  I  think,  when  I  uttered  these  words, 
that  my  wish  was  so  soon  to  be  disappointed !]  Sir,  in  the 
lives  and  characters  of  these  great  men  there  is  much  re 
sembling  those  of  the  great  triumvirate  of  the  British 
Parliament.  It  differs  principally  in  this  :  Burke  preceded 
Fox  and  Pitt  to  the  tomb.  Webster  survives  Clay  and 
Calhoun.  When  Fox  and  Pitt  died,  they  left  no  peer  be 
hind  them.  Webster  still  lives,  now  that  Calhoun  and 
Clay  are  dead,  the  unrivalled  statesman  of  his  country. 
Like  Fox  and  Pitt,  Clay  and  Calhoun  lived  in  troubled 
times.  Like  Fox  and  Pitt,  they  were  each  of  them  the 
leader  of  rival  parties.  Like  Fox  and  Pitt,  they  were 


484  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

idolized  by  their  respective  friends.  Like  Fox  and  Pitt, 
they  died  about  the  same  time,  and  in  the  public  service ; 
and,  as  has  been  said  of  Fox  and  Pitt,  Clay  and  Calhoun 
died  with  *  their  harness  upon  them.'  Like  Fox  and 
Pitt— 

"  '  With  more  than  mortal  powers  endow'd, 
How  high  they  soar'd  above  the  crowd ! 
Theirs  was  no  common  party  race, 
Jostling  by  dark  intrigue  for  place. 
Like  fabled  gods  their  mighty  war 
Shook  realms  and  nations  in  its  jar. 
Beneath  each  banner,  proud  to  stand, 
Look'd  up  the  noblest  of  the  land, 
•x-          #          #          •&          *          -x- 
Here  let  their  discord  with  them  die. 
Speak  not  for  those  a  separate  doom 
Whom  fate  made  brothers  in  the  tomb ; 
But  search  the  land  of  living  men, 
Where  wilt  thou  find  their  like  again  ?'  " 

I  may  reproduce  on  this  occasion,  with  propriety,  what 
I  then  said,  with  the  addition  of  the  names  of  Burke  and 
Webster.  The  parallel  that  I  undertook  to  run  on  that 
occasion,  by  the  aid  of  a  -poet,  was  not  designed  to  be  per 
fect,  yet  it  might  be  strengthened  by  lines  from  another 
poet.  For  though  Webster's  enemies  must  admit,  as 
Burke's  satirist  did,  that — 

"  Too  fond  of  the  right  to  pursue  the  expedient," 

yet,  what  satirist,  with  the  last  years  of  Webster's  life 
before  him,  will  undertake  to  shock  the  public  sentiment  of 
America  by  saying,  as  was  unjustly  said  of  Burke  by  his 
satirist — 

"Born  for  the  universe,  he  narrow' d  his  mind, 
And  to  party  gave  up  what  was  meant  for  mankind"  ? 

Mr.  Speaker,  during  the  brief  period  I  have  served  with 
you  in  this  House,  what  sad  havoc  has  Death  made  among 
the  statesmen  of  our  Republic  !  Jackson,  Wright,  Polk, 
McDuffie,  and  Sergeant,  in  private  life,  and  Woodbury, 
from  the  bench,  have  gone  to  the  tomb  !  We  have  buried 
in  that  short  time  Adams,  Calhoun,  Taylor,  and  Clay,  and 
we  are  now  called  on  to  pay  the  last  tribute  of  our  respec* 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  485 

to  the  memory  of  Daniel  Webster.     Well  may  I  ask,  in 
the  language  of  the  poem  already  quoted — 

"  Where  wilt  thou  find  their  like  again  ?" 

There  was  little,  I  fear,  in  the  history  of  the  latter  days 
of  some  of  those  great  men  to  whom  I  have  alluded  to  in 
spire  the  young  men  of  our  country  to  emulate  them  in 
the  labors  and  sacrifices  of  public  life.  Yet  there  never 
was  a  time  when  there  was  a  stronger  obligation  of  pa 
triotic  duty  on  us  to  emulate  them  in  that  respect  than 
now. 

They  followed  one  race  of  Revolutionary  statesmen — 
they  were  the  second  generation  of  statesmen  of  our 
country.  With  one  or  .two  brilliant  exceptions,  that  second 
generation  has  passed  away,  and  those  that  now  have 
charge  of  public  affairs,  with  the  exceptions  referred  to, 
are  emphatically  new  men.  God  grant  we  have  the  pa 
triotism  to  follow  faithfully  in  the  footsteps  of  those  who 
preceded  us ! 


XII. 

MR.  STANLEY  said : 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  I  feel  that  it  is  proper  and  becoming  in 
me,  as  the  representative  of  a  people  who  claim  the  reputa 
tion  of  Daniel  Webster  as  part  of  their  most  valuable  pro 
perty,  to  add  a  few  words  to  what  has  been  already  said. 
I  do  not  think  that  it  is  necessary  to  his  fame  to  do  so.  I 
have  no  idea  of  attempting  a  eulogy  on  Daniel  Webster. 
It  would  be  presumptuous  to  attempt  it.  Long  before  my 
entrance  into  public  life,  I  heard  from  an  illustrious  citizen 
of  my  native  State,  (the  late  Judge  Gaston,)  that  Mr. 
Webster,  who  was  his  contemporary  in  Congress,  gave 
early  indication  of  the  wonderful  abilities  which  he  after 
ward  displayed.  There  were  giants  in  the  land  in  those 
days,  and  by  them  Webster  was  regarded  as  one  who  would 
earn  great  distinction.  Before  he  reached  the  height  of 

41* 


486  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

his  fame  the  young  men  in  our  land  had  been  taught  to 
respect  him.  This  was  the  feeling  of  those  who  came 
forward  on  the  stage  of  life  with  me.  In  what  language, 
then,  can  I  express  my  admiration  of  those  splendid  abili 
ties  which  have  delighted  and  instructed  his  countrymen, 
and  charmed  the  lovers  of  republican  government  through 
out  the  earth?  How  shall  I  find  fitting  terms  to  speak  of 
his  powers  in  conversation — his  many  good  qualities  in 
social  life — his  extraordinary  attainments — his  exalted  pa 
triotism  ?  Sir,  I  shrink  from  the  task. 

Gifted  men  from  the  pulpit,  eloquent  Senators  at  home 
and  in  the  Senate,  orators  in  Northern  and  Southern  and 
Western  States,  have  gratified  the  public  mind  by  doing 
honor  to  his  memory.  To  follow  in' a  path  trodden  by  so 
many  superior  men  requires  more  boldness  than  I  possess. 
But  I  cannot  forbear  to  say  that  we  North  Carolinians 
sympathize  with  Massachusetts  in  her  loss.  We  claim  him 
aa  our  Webster,  as  we  do  the  memories  of  her  great  men 
of  the  Revolution.  Though  he  has  added  glory  to  the 
bright  name  of  Massachusetts,  he  has  been  the  defender 
of  that  Constitution  which  has  surrounded,  with  impreg 
nable  bulwarks,  the  invaluable  blessings  of  civil  liberty. 
When  he  made  Massachusetts  hearts  throb  with  pride  that 
she  had  such  a  man  to  represent  her  in  the  councils  of  the 
nation,  we,  too,  felt  proud  at  her  joy,  for  her  glory  is  our 
glory. 

Faneuil  Hall  is  in  Boston,  and  Boston  in  Massachusetts; 
but  the  fame  of  those  whose  eloquence  from  those  walls 
fanned  the  fire  of  liberty  in  the  hearts  of  American  pa 
triots,  and  made  tyrants  tremble  on  their  thrones,  is  the 
fame  of  the  American  people. 

Fancuil  Hall !  Daniel  Webster !  What  glorious  associa 
tions  do  these  words  recall ! 

The  American  patriot  who  hereafter  performs  his  pil 
grimage  to  that  time-honored  hall,  and  looks  at  his  por 
trait,  appropriately  placed  there,  will  involuntarily  repeat 
what  the  poet  said  of  the  Webster  of  poets : 

"  Here  Nature  listening  stood,  while  Sliakspeare  play'd, 
And  wonder'd  at  the  work  herself  had  made." 

Daniel  Webster  was  to  the  Revolutionary  patriots  of 


OBITUARY   ADDRESSES.  487 

Massachusetts,  to  the  founders  of  our  Constitution  in  the 
Old  Thirteen  States,  what  Homer  was  to  the  ancient  heroes. 
Their  deeds  would  have  lived  without  him.  Their  memories 
would  have  been  cherished  by  their  countrymen  had  Web 
ster  never  spoken.  But  who  can  say  that  his  mighty  ability, 
his  power  of  language,  unequalled  throughout  the  world — 
who  can  say  he  has  not  embalmed  their  memories,  painted 
their  deeds  in  beautiful  drapery,  and  by  the  might  of  his 
genius  held  them  up  in  captivating  form  to  his  countrymen  ? 
Who  is  there  on  the  habitable  globe,  wherever  man  is  strug 
gling  for  freedom,  wherever  Washington's  name  is  heard 
and  reverenced — who  is  there  who  will  ever  read  the  his 
tory  of  those  immortal  men  who  achieved  our  liberties,  and 
founded  with  almost  supernatural  wisdom  our  Constitution 
and  republican  form  of  government — who  can  ever  read 
the  history  of  these  great  men  without  saying,  they  achieved 
much,  they  performed  great  and  noble  deeds,  but  Web 
ster's  oratory  has  emblazoned  them  to  the  world  and 
erected  monuments  to  their  memories  more  enduring  than 
marble  ?  Can  man  aspire  to  higher  honor  than  to  have  his 
name  associated  with  such  men  ?  This  honor,  by  universal 
consent,  Daniel  Webster,  the  son  of  a  New  Hampshire 
farmer,  has  secured.  Wherever  liberty  is  prized  on  earth, 
in  whatever  quarter  of  the  globe  the  light  of  our  "  great 
republic"  is  seen,  sending  its  cheering  beams  to  the  heart 
of  the  lonely  exile  of  oppression — in  that  land,  and  to  that 
heart,  will  the  name  of  Webster  be  held  in  grateful  re 
membrance.  As  we  cannot  think  of  the  founders  of  our 
Republic  without  thinking  of  Webster,  we  cannot  speak  of 
his  services  properly  except  in  his  own  words.  How  many 
of  us,  in  and  out  of  Congress,  since  his  death,  have  re 
called  his  memorable  words,  in  his  eulogiuin  on  Adams  and 
Jefferson  !  Hear  him  in  that  discourse  : 

"Adams  and  Jefferson,  I  have  said,  are  no  more.  A.S 
human  beings,  indeed,  they  are  no  more.  They  are  no 
more,  as  in  1776,  bold  and  fearless  advocates  of  inde 
pendence  ;  no  more,  as  on  subsequent  periods,  the  head 
of  the  Government ;  no  more,  as  we  have  recently  seen 
them,  aged  and  venerable  objects  of  admiration  and  regard. 
They  are  no  more.  They  are  dead.  But  how  little  is 
there  of  the  great  and  good  which  can  die  !  To  their 


48?  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

country  they  yet  live,  and  live  forever.  They  live  in  all 
that  perpetuates  the  remembrance  of  men  on  earth ;  in 
the  recorded  proofs  of  their  great  actions ;  in  the  offspring 
of  their  intellect ;  in  the  deep  and  grave  lines  of  public 
gratitude,  and  in  the  respect  and  homage  of  mankind. 
They  live  in  their  example;  and  they  live,  emphatically, 
and  will  live,  in  the  influence  which  their  lives  and  efforts, 
their  principles  and  opinions,  now  exercise,  and  will  con 
tinue  to  exercise,  on  the  affairs  of  men,  not  only  in  their 
country,  but  throughout  the  civilized  world.  A  superior 
and  commanding  human  intellect,  a  truly  great  man,  when 
Heaven  vouchsafes  so  rare  a  gift,  is  not  a  temporary  flame, 
burning  bright  for  a  while,  and  then  expiring,  giving  place 
to  returning  darkness.  It  is  rather  a  spark  of  fervent 
heat  as  well  as  radiant  light,  with  power  to  enkindle  the 
common  mass  of  human  mind  ;  so  that  when  it  glimmers 
in  its  own  decay,  and  finally  goes  out  in  death,  no  night 
follows,  but  it  leaves  the  world  all  light,  all  on  fire,  from 
the  potent  contact  of  its  own  spirit.  Bacon  died,  but  the 
human  understanding,  roused  by  the  touch  of  his  mira 
culous  wand  to  a  perception  of  the  true  philosophy,  and 
the  just  mode  of  inquiring  after  truth,  has  kept  on  its 
course,  successfully  and  gloriously.  Newton  died,  yet  the 
courses  of  the  spheres  are  still  known,  and  they  yet  move 
on  in  the  orbits  which  he  saw  and  described  for  them  in 
the  infinity  of  space." 

Who  can  hear  these  words  without  feeling  how  appro 
priate  and  applicable  to  the  great  American  statesman? 
To  his  country  he  "still  lives,"  and  will  live  forever. 

Mr.  Speaker,  I  fear  to  go  on.  The  thoughts  which  are 
in  my  mind  are  not  worthy  of  the  great  subject.  I  have 
read  and  heard  so  much  from  the  able,  learned,  and  elo 
quent  of  our  land  in  his  praise,  I  shrink  from  attempting 
to  add  any  thing  more. 

In  justice  to  the  feelings  of  those  I  represent,  I  felt 
solicitous  to  cast  my  pebble  on  the  pile  which  was  erecting 
to  his  memory.  They  venerate  his  memory,  not  only  for 
those  services  to  which  I  have  referred,  but  also  for  his 
later  exhibitions  of  patriotism,  in  stemming  the  torrent  of 
temporary  excitement  at  home.  The  year  1852,  Mr. 
Speaker,  will  long  be  memorable  in  the  annuls  of  our 


OBITUARY  ADDRESSES.  489 

country.  In  this  year,  three  great  lights  of  our  age  and 
our  country  have  gone  out.  But  a  few  months  since,  the 
voice  of  lamentation  was  heard  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific  shore  that  Henry  Clay  was  no  more.  The  sounds 
of  sorrow  had  scarcely  died  in  our  ears,  when  inexorable 
Death,  striking  with  remorseless  hand  at  the  cottage  of  the 
peasant  and  the  palace  of  the  great — Death,  as  if  to  send 
terror  to  our  souls  by  showing  us  that  the  greatest  in  place 
and  in  genius  are  but  men — has  destroyed  all  that  was 
mortal  of  Daniel  Webster. 

And  even  while  we  were  celebrating  his  obsequies,  the 
sagacious  statesman,  the  wise  counsellor,  the  pure  and  up 
right  man,  John  Sergeant,  of  Pennsylvania — the  man  who 
more  happily  combined  the  suaviter  in  modo  with  the 
fortiter  in  re  than  any  public  man  I  ever  met  with — the 
model  of  that  best  of  all  characters,  a  Christian  gentleman, 
always  loving  "whatsoever  things  are  true,  honest,  just, 
lovely,  and  of  good  report," — John  Sergeant  is  called  to 
that  beatific  vision  reserved  for  "the  pure  in  heart." 

Let  it  be  our  pleasure,  as  it  will  be  our  duty,  to  teach 
those  who  come  after  us  to  imitate  the  private  virtues,  re 
member  the  public  services,  and  cherish  the  reputation  of 
these  illustrious  men.  And  while  we  do  this,  let  us  cherish, 
with  grateful  remembrance  and  honest  pride,  the  thought 
that  these  great  men  were  not  only  lovers  of  liberty,  friends 
of  republican  institutions,  and  patriots  devoted  to  the  ser 
vice  of  their  country,  but  that  they  were,  with  sincere  con 
viction,  believers  in  the  Christian  religion.  Without  this 
praise,  the  Corinthian  column  of  their  characters  would  be 
deprived  at  once  of  the  chief  ornament  of  its  capital  and 
the  solidity  of  its  base. 

I  fervently  hope  the  lessons  we  have  had  of  the  certainty 
of  death  will  not  be  lost  upon  us.  May  they  make  us  less 
fond  of  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  so  rapidly  passing 
away !  May  they  cause  those  who  are  in  high  places  of 
trust  and  honor  to  remember,  now  in  the  days  of  health, 
manhood,  and  prosperity,  that 

"  The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power, 

And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth,  e'er  gave 
Await  alike  the  inevitable  hour  : 

The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave  !" 


490  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 


XIII. 

MR.  TAYLOR,  of  Ohio,  said: 

Mr.  SPEAKER:  In  the  Congress  of  1799,  when  the  an 
nouncement  of  the  death  of  General  Washington  was  made 
in  this  body,  appropriate  resolutions  were  passed  to  express 
the  high  appreciation  of  the  representatives  of  the  people  of 
the  pre-eminent  public  services  of  the  Father  of  his  Country, 
and  profound  grief  for  their  loss.  His  death  was  considered 
a  great  national  calamity  ;  and,  in  the  beautiful  and  appro 
priate  language  of  General  Henry  Lee,  who  prepared  the  re 
solutions  introduced  by  John  Marshall,  he  was  proclaimed  as 
having  been  "first  in  war,  first  in  peace,  and  first  in  the 
hearts  of  his  countrymen."  The  whole  nation  cordially  re 
sponded  to  that  sentiment,  and  from  that  day  to  this,  the 
high  eulogium  has  been  adopted  by  the  people  of  the  United 
States  of  America,  as  the  just  and  expressive  tribute  to  the 
greatest  man,  take  him  all  in  all,  that  our  country  had  then, 
or  has  since,  produced.  Time  rolled  on,  and  the  sentiment 
of  his  own  country  has,  of  late  years,  become  the  intelli- 

fent  opinion  of  the  whole  world.     And  in  proof  of  this 
might  cite,  among  others,  the  deliberately-recorded  opi 
nions  of  the  late  premier  Guizot,  of  France,  and  the  great 
though  eccentric  writer  and  statesman,  Brougham,  of  Eng 
land,  men  of  vast  celebrity. 

Our  country,  then  in  its  infancy,  has  grown  up,  in  little 
more  than  half  a  century,  to  be  the  first  republic  in  the 
world,  having  increased  from  three  or  four  millions  to 
nearly  twenty-five  millions  of  inhabitants,  and  extending 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  During  the  present 
year  the  nation  has  been  called  upon  to  mourn  the  death 
of  two  of  her  distinguished  citizens, — two  men  born  since 
the  establishment  of  our  independence,  cradled  in  the  Re 
volution,  and  brought  up,  as  it  were,  at  the  feet  of  the 
fathers  of  the  republic,  whose  long  public  career  has 
attracted  to  them  and  all  that  concerned  them,  more  than 
to  any  others,  the  admiration,  the  gratitude,  and  the  hope 
of  the  whole  people.  These  men — Henry  Clay  and  Daniel 
Webster — have  both  been  gathered  to  their  fathers  during 


OBITUARY    ADDRESSES.  491 

the  present  year.  When,  during  our  last  session,  the  offi 
cial  announcement  was  made  in  this  House  of  the  death 
of  Henry  Clay,  I  listened  with  heartfelt  sympathy  to  the 
eloquent  and  beautiful  eulogies  then  pronounced  upon  his 
character,  and  felt  in  the  fulness  of  my  heart  the  truest 
grief.  As  one  of  the  representatives  of  the  great  and 
prosperous  State  of  Ohio  on  this  floor,  I  desired  then  to 
mingle  my  humble  voice  with  those  who  eagerly  sought  to 
honor  his  memory.  But  no  opportunity  was  afforded  me, 
and  I  could  only  join  with  meekness  of  spirit  and  a  bowed 
mind  in  the  appropriate  funeral  honors  which  were  ren 
dered  to  the  illustrious  dead  by  Congress.  And  I  only 
now  desire  to  say,  that  no  State  in  this  Union,  not  even 
his  own  beloved  Kentucky,  more  deeply  felt  the  great  loss 
which,  in  the  death  of  Mr.  Clay,  the  nation  had  sustained, 
than  the  State  of  Ohio  ;  and  the  public  meetings  of  her 
citizens,  without  distinction  of  party,  in  the  city  in  which 
I  reside,  and  many  other  parts  of  the  State,  expressed,  in 
appropriate  and  feeling  terms,  their  high  estimate  of  his 
great  public  services,  and  their  profound  grief  for  his 
death. 

And  now,  sir,  since  the  adjournment  of  Congress,  at  its 
last  session,  he  who  co-operated  with  Mr.  Clay  in  the  legis 
lative  and  executive  departments,  at  various  times  for 
nearly  forty  years,  and  to  whom,  with  his  great  com 
patriot,  more  than  to  any  others,  the  people  looked  for 
counsel,  and  for  security  and  peace, — he,  too,  has  paid  the 
debt  of  nature,  and  will  never  more  be  seen  among  men. 
The  formal  announcement  in  this  body  of  the  death  of 
Daniel  Webster  has  elicited  just  and  eloquent  tributes  to 
his  memory,  and  brings  freshly  to  our  view  the  beautiful 
traits  of  his  private  character,  and  his  great  and  long- 
continued  public  services  in  the  Senate  and  in  one  of  the 
executive  departments  of  the  Government.  In  all  that  is 
said  in  commendation  of  the  private  virtues  and  pre-emi 
nent  public  services  of  Daniel  Webster  I  heartily  concur ; 
and  I  wish,  sir,  that  I  could  find  words  sufficiently  strong 
and  appropriate  to  express  what,  in  my  judgment,  were 
the  great  claims  of  these  two  eminent  men  upon  the  admi 
ration  and  upon  the  gratitude  of  their  countrymen.  They 
were  in  many  respects  exemplars  for  the  young  men  of 


492  OBITUARY   ADDRESSES. 

our  country.  Born  (without  any  of  the  advantages  con 
ferred  sometimes  by  wealth  and  position)  in  humble  life; 
struggling  with  adversities  in  their  earlier  years,  triumph 
ing  over  all  obstacles  by  their  native  strength  of  intellect, 
by  their  genius  and  by  their  persevering  industry  and 
great  energy,  they  placed  themselves  in  the  very  first  rank 
of  American  statesmen,  and  for  more  than  forty  years 
were  the  great  leaders  of  the  American  mind,  and  among 
the  brightest  guardians  of  their  common  country. 

Sir,  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  have  known,  for  many 
years,  both  these  great  patriots,  and  to  have  enjoyed  their 
friendship ;  and  I  think  I  but  express  the  general  senti 
ment  of  the  intelligent  people  of  this  great  country  when 
I  say  that  our  country  is,  in  a  very  large  degree,  indebted 
to  them  for  its  present  unexampled  prosperity,  for  its 
peace  and  domestic  happiness,  and  for  its  acknowledged 
power  and  high  renown  all  over  the  world.  In  my  judg 
ment,  the  words  of  the  national  legislature,  so-  beautifully 
and  aptly  embodying  the  true  character  of  the  Father  of 
his  Country,  were  not  more  appropriately  uttered  then  in 
reference  to  him  than  they  might  be  applied  now,  so  far  as 
relates  to  the  civil  affairs  and  action  of  our  Government 
within  the  last  forty  years,  to  Henry  Clay  and  Daniel 
Webster;  and  it  may  be  properly  said  of  them,  that, 
within  that  time,  they  have  been,  emphatically,  "  first  in 
war,  first  in  peace,  and  first  in  the  hearts  of  their  coun 
trymen."  But,  sir,  the  great  men  of  a  country  must  die; 
and,  if  the  great  men  of  a  country  are  pre-eminently  good 
men,  their  loss  is  the  more  severely  felt.  Nothing  human 
is  perfect ;  and  I  am  far  from  believing,  much  less  from 
asserting,  that  the  eminent  men  of  whom  I  have  spoken 
were  without  defects  of  character.  But  I  believe  their 
virtues  so  far  outweighed  the  imperfections  of  their  nature, 
that  to  dwell  upon  such  defects,  on  this  occasion,  would  be 
as  unprofitable  and  futile  as  to  object  to  the  light,  and 
heat,  and  blessings  of  the  glorious  sun,  guided  by  the 
Omnipotent  hand,  because  an  occasional  shadow  or  spot 
may  be  seen  on  his  disk.  These  guardians  of  our  country 
have  passed  away,  but  their  works  and  good  examples  are 
left  for  our  guidance,  and  are  part  of  the  lasting  and 
valued  possessions  of  this  nation.  And,  Mr.  Speaker, 


EDWARD  EVERETT'S  ADDRESS.  493 

"When  the  bright  guardians  of  a  country  die, 
The  grateful  tear  in  tenderness  will  start ; 
And  the  keen  anguish  of  a  reddening  eye 
Disclose  the  deep  affliction  of  the  heart." 


XIV. 

EDWARD    EVERETT'S    ADDRESS    ON    THE    DEATH    OF    MR. 
WEBSTER,  DELIVERED  IN  BOSTON. 

Mr.  MAYOR  AND  FELLOW-CITIZENS:  I  never  rose  to 
address  an  assembly  when  I  was  so  little  fit,  body  or  mind, 
to  perform  the  duty ;  and  I  never  felt  so  keenly  how  in 
adequate  are  words  to  express  such  an  emotion  as  mani 
festly  pervades  this  meeting,  in  common  with  the  whole 
country.  There  is  but  one  voice  that  ever  fell  upon  my 
ear  which  could  do  justice  to  such  an  occasion.  That 
voice,  alas  !  we  shall  hear  no  more  forever.  No  more  at 
the  bar  will  it  unfold  the  deepest  mysteries  of  the  law ;  no 
more  will  it  speak  conviction  to  admiring  Senates ;  no 
more  in  this  hall,  the  chosen  theatre  of  his  intellectual 
dominion,  will  it  lift  the  soul  as  with  the  swell  of  the  peal 
ing  organ,  or  stir  the  blood  with  the  tones  of  a  clarion,  in 
the  inmost  chambers  of  the  heart. 

We  are  assembled,  fellow-citizens,  to  pour  out  the  ful 
ness  of  our  feelings ;  not  in  vain  attempt  to  do  honor  to 
the  great  man  who  is  taken  from  us  ;  most  assuredly,  not 
with  the  presumptuous  hope  on  any  part  to  magnify  his 
name  and  his  praise.  They  are  spread  throughout  the 
land.  From  East  to  West,  and  from  North  to  South, 
(which  he  knew,  as  he  told  you,  only  that  he  might  em 
brace  them  in  the  arms  of  loving  patriotism,)  a  voice  of 
lamentation  has  already  gone  forth,  such  as  has  not  echoed 
throughout  the  land  since  the  death  of  him  who  was  "  first 
in  war,  first  in  peace,  and  first  in  the  hearts  of  his  coun 
trymen." 

You  have  listened,  fellow-citizens,  to  the  resolutions 
which  have  been  submitted  to  you  by  Colonel  Heard.  I 

42 


494  EULOGIES  ON  WEBSTER. 

thank  him  for  offering  them.  It  does  honor  to  his  heart, 
and  to  those  with  whom  he  acts  in  politics,  and  whom,  I 
have  no  doubt,  he  well  represents,  that  he  has  stepped 
forward  so  liberally  on  this  occasion.  The  resolutions  are 
emphatic,  sir,  but  I  feel  that  they  do  not  say  too  much. 
No  one  will  think  that  they  overstate  the  magnitude  of  our 
loss,  who  is  capable  of  appreciating  a  character  like  that 
of  Daniel  Webster.  Who  of  us,  fellow-citizens,  that  has 
known  him — that  has  witnessed  the  masterly  skill  with 
which  he  would  pour  the  full  effulgence  of  his  mind  on. 
some  contested  legal  and  constitutional  principle,  till  what 
seemed  hard  and  obscure  became  as  plain  as  day  ;  who 
that  has  seen  him,  in  all  the  glory  of  intellectual  as 
cendency, 

'  Ride  on  the  whirlwind  and  direct  the  storm" 

of  parliamentary  conflict ;  who  that  has  drank  of  the  pure, 
fresh  air  of  wisdom  and  thought  in  the  volumes  of  his 
writings ;  who,  alas,  sir,  that  has  seen  him 

"  in  his  happier  hour 
Of  social  pleasure,  ill  exchanged  for  power," 

that  has  come  within  the  benignant  fascination  of  his 
smile,  has  felt  the  pressure  of  his  hand,  and  tasted  the 
sweets  of  his  fireside  eloquence,  will  think  that  the  resolu 
tions  say  too  much? 

No,  fellow-citizens,  we  come  together  not  to  do  honor  to 
him,  but  to  do  justice  to  ourselves.  We  obey  an  impulse 
from  within.  Such  a  feeling  cannot  be  pent  up  in  solitude. 
We  must  meet  neighbor  with  neighbor,  citizen  with  citizen, 
man  with  man,  to  sympathize  with  each  other.  If  we  did 
not,  mute  nature  would  rebuke  us.  The  granite  hills  of 
New  Hampshire,  within  whose  shadow  he  drew  his  first 
breath,  would  cry  shame :  Plymouth  Rock,  which  all  but 
moved  at  his  approach  ;  the  slumbering  echoes  of  this  hall, 
which  rung  so  grandly  with  his  voice,  that  "  silent  but  ma 
jestic  orator,"  which  rose  in  no  mean  degree  at  his  com 
mand  on  Bunker  Hill, — all,  all,  would  cry  out  at  our  de 
generacy  and  ingratitude. 

Mr.  Chairman,  I  do  not  stand  here  to  pronounce  the 


EDWARD  EVERETT'S  ADDRESS.  495 

eulogy  of  Mr.  Webster ;  it  is  not  necessary.  Eulogy  has 
already  performed  her  first  offices  to  his  memory.  As  the 
mournful  tidings  have  flashed  through  the  country,  the 
highest  officers  of  nation  and  State,  the  most  dignified 
official  bodies,  the  most  prominent  individuals,  without  dis 
tinction  of  party,  the  press  of  the  country,  the  great  voice 
of  the  land,  all  have  spoken,  and  with  one  accord  of  opi 
nion  and  feeling ;  with  a  unanimity  that  does  honor  at  once 
to  the  object  of  this  touching  attestation,  and  to  those  who 
make  it.  The  record  of  his  life,  from  the  humble  roof 
beneath  which  he  was  born,  (with  no  inheritance  but 
poverty  and  an  honored  name,)  up  through  the  arduous 
paths  of  manhood,  which  he  trod  with  lion  heart  and  giant 
steps,  till  they  conducted  him  to  the  helm  of  state, — this 
stirring  narrative,  not  unfamiliar  before,  has,  with  melan 
choly  promptitude,  within  the  last  three  days,  been  again 
sent  abroad  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land. 
It  has  spread  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Mississippi.  Strug 
gling  poverty  has  been  cheered  afresh ;  honest  ambition 
has  been  kindled,  patriotic  resolve  has  been  invigorated; 
while  all  have  mourned. 

The  poor  boy  at  the  village  school  has  taken  comfort  as 
he  has  read  that  the  time  was  when  Daniel  Webster,  whose 
father  told  him  he  should  go  to  college  if  he  had  to  sell 
every  acre  of  his  farm  to  pay  the  expense,  laid  his  head 
on  the  shoulder  of  that  fond  and  discerning  parent,  and 
wept  the  thanks  he  could  not  speak.  The  pale  student  who 
ekes  out  his  scanty  support  by  extra  toil  has  gathered  com 
fort  when  reminded  that  the  first  jurist,  statesman,  and 
orator  of  the  time  earned  with  his  weary  fingers,  by  the 
midnight  lamp,  the  means  of  securing  the  same  advantages 
of  education  to  a  beloved  brother.  Every  true-hearted 
citizen  throughout  the  Union  has  felt  an  honest  pride  aa 
he  reperuses  the  narrative,  in  reflecting  that  he  lives  be 
neath  a  Constitution  and  a  Government  under  which  such 
a  man  has  been  formed  and  trained,  and  that  he  himself 
is  compatriot  with  him.  He  does  more,  sir ;  he  reflects 
with  gratitude  that  in  consequence  of  what  that  man  has 
done  and  written,  and  said — in  the  result  of  his  efforts  to 
strengthen  the  pillars  of  the  Union — a  safer  inheritance  of 


496  EULOGIES   ON   WEBSTER. 

civil  liberty,  a  stronger  assurance  that  these  blessings  will 
endure,  will  descend  to  his  children. 

I  know,  Mr.  Mayor,  how  presumptuous  it  would  be  to 
dwell  on  any  personal  causes  of  grief,  in  the  presence  of 
this  august  sorrow  which  spreads  its  dark  wings  over  the 
land.  You  will  not,  however,  be  offended,  if,  by  way  of 
apology  for  putting  myself  forward  on  this  occasion,  I  say 
that  my  relations  with  Mr.  Webster  run  further  back  than 
those  of  almost  any  one  in  this  community.  They  began 
the  first  year  he  came  to  live  in  Boston.  When  I  was  but 
ten  or  eleven  years  old,  I  attended  a  little  private  school  in 
Short  Street,  (as  it  was  then  called  ;  it  is  now  the  continua 
tion  of  Kingston  Street,)  kept  by  the  late  Hon.  Ezekiel  Web 
ster,  the  elder  brother  to  whom  I  have  alluded,  and  a  bro 
ther  worthy  of  his  kindred.  Owing  to  illness,  or  some 
other  cause  of  absence  on  his  part,  the  school  was  kept  for 
a  short  time  by  Daniel  Webster,  then  a  student  of  law  in 
Mr.  Gore's  office  ;  and  on  this  occasion,  forty-seven  or  forty- 
eight  years  ago,  and  I  a  child  of  ten,  our  acquaintance, 
never  interrupted,  began. 

When  I  entered  public  life,  it  was  with  his  encouragement. 
In  1888, 1  acted,  fellow-citizens,  as  your  organ  in  the  great 
ovation  which  you  gave  him  in  this  hall.  When  he  came  to 
the  Department  of  State,  in  1841,  it  was  on  his  recom 
mendation  that  I,  living  in  the  utmost  privacy  beyond  the 
Alps,  was  appointed  to  a  .very  high  office  abroad  ;  and,  in 
the  course  of  the  last  year,  he  gave  me  the  highest  proof 
of  his  confidence,  in  intrusting  to  me  the  care  of  conduct 
ing  his  works  through  the  press.  May  I  venture,  sir,  to 
add,  that  in  the  last  letter  but  one  which  I  had  the  happi 
ness  to  receive  from  him,  alluding  with  a  kind  of  sad  pre 
sentiment,  which  I  could  not  then  fully  appreciate,  but 
which  now  unmans  me,  to  these  kindly  relations  of  half  a 
century,  he  adds,  "We  now  and  then  see  stretching  across 
the  heavens  a  clear,  blue,  cerulean  sky,  without  cloud,  or 
mist,  or  haze.  And  such  appears  to  me  our  acquaintance 
from  the  time  when  I  heard  you  for  a  week  recite  your 
lessons  in  the  little  school-house  in  Short  Street,  to  the 
date  hereof,"  (21st  of  July,  1852.) 

Mr.  Chairman,  I  do  not  dwell  upon  the  traits  of  Mr. 
Webster's  public  character,  however  tempting  the  theme. 


EDWARD  EVERETT'S  ADDRESS.  497 

Its  bright  developments  in  a  long  life  of  service  are  before 
the  world ;  they  are  wrought  into  the  annals  of  the 
country.  Whoever  in  after-times  shall  write  the  his 
tory  of  the  United  States  for  the  last  forty  years,  will 
write  the  life  of  Daniel  Webster ;  and  whoever  writes  the 
life  of  Daniel  Webster,  as  it  ought  to  be  written,  will  write 
the  history  of  the  Union  from  the  time  he  took  a  leading 
part  in  its  concerns.  I  prefer  to  allude  to  those  •  private 
traits  which  show  the  MAN,  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  the 
generosity  of  his  spirit,  his  freedom  from  all  the  bitterness 
of  party,  the  unaffected  gentleness  of  his  nature.  In  pre 
paring  the  new  edition  of  his  works,  he  thought  proper  to 
leave  almost  every  thing  to  my  discretion — as  far  as  mat 
ters  of  taste  are  concerned.  One  thing  only  he  enjoined 
upon  me,  with  an  earnestness  approaching  to  a  command. 
"  My  friend,"  said  he,  "  I  wish  to  perpetuate  no  feuds.  I 
have  sometimes,  though  rarely,  and  that  in  self-defence, 
been  led  to  speak  of  others  with  severity.  I  beg  you, 
where  you  can  do  it  without  wholly  changing  the  cha 
racter  of  the  speech,  and  thus  doing  essential  injustice 
to  me,  to  obliterate  every  trace  of  personality  of  this 
kind.  I  should  prefer  not  to  leave  a  word  that  would 
give  unnecessary  pain  to  any  honest  man,  however  opposed 
to  me." 

But  I  need  not  tell  you,  fellow-citizens,  that  there  is  no 
one  of  our  distinguished  public  men  whose  speeches  con 
tain  less  occasion  for  such  an  injunction.  Mr.  Webster 
habitually  abstained  from  the  use  of  the  poisoned  weapons 
of  personal  invective  or  party  odium.  No  one  could  more 
studiously  abstain  from  all  attempts  to  make  a  political 
opponent  personally  hateful.  If  the  character  of  our  Con 
gressional  discussions  has  of  late  years  somewhat  declined 
in  dignity,  no  portion  of  the  blame  lies  at  his  door.  With 
Mr.  Calhoun,  who,  for  a  considerable  portion  of  the  time, 
was  his  chief  antagonist,  and  with  whom  he  was  brought 
into  most  direct  collision,  he  maintained  friendly  personal 
relations.  He  did  full  justice  to  his  talent  and  character. 
You  remember  the  feeling  with  which  he  spoke  of  him  at 
the  time  of  his  decease.  Mr.  Calhoun,  in  his  turn,  enter 
tained  a  just  estimate  of  his  great  opponent's  worth.  He 
said,  toward  the  close  of  his  life,  that  of  all  the  leading 


498  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

men  of  the  day,  "  there  was  not  one  whose  political  course 
had  been  more  strongly  marked  by  a  strict  regard  to  truth 
and  honor  than  Mr.  Webster's." 

One  of  the  resolutions  speaks  of  a  permanent  memorial 
to  Mr.  Webster.  I  do  not  know  what  is  contemplated, 
but  I  trust  that  such  a  memorial  there  will  be.  I  trust 
that  marble  and  brass,  in  the  hands  of  the  most  skilful 
artists  our  country  has  produced,  will  be  put  in  requisition 
to  reproduce  to  us — and  nowhere  so  appropriately  as  in 
this  hall — the  lineaments  of  that  noble  form  and  beaming 
countenance,  on  which  we  have  so  often  gazed  with  de 
light.  But,  after  all,  fellow-citizens,  the  noblest  monu 
ment  may  be  found  in  his  works.  There  he  will  live  and 
speak  to  us  and  our  children  when  brass  and  marble  have 
crumbled  into  dust.  As  a  repository  of  political  truth 
and  practical  wisdom  applied  to  the  affairs  of  government, 
I  know  not  where  we  shall  find  their  equal.  The  works 
of  Burke  naturally  suggest  themselves  to  the  mind  as  the 
only  writings  in  our  language  that  can  sustain  the  compa 
rison.  Certainly  no  compositions  in  the  English  tongue 
can  take  precedence  of  those  of  Burke  in  depth  of  thought, 
reach  of  forecast,  or  magnificence  of  style.  I  think,  how 
ever,  it  may  be  said,  without  partiality,  either  national  or 
personal,  that  while  the  reader  is  cloyed  at  last  with  the 
gorgeous  finish  of  Burke's  diction,  there  is  a  severe  sim 
plicity  and  a  significant  plainness  in  Webster's  writings 
that  never  tires.  It  is  precisely  this  which  characterizes 
the  statesman  in  distinction  from  the  political  philosopher. 
In  political  disquisition  elaborated  in  the  closet,  the  palm 
must  perhaps  be  awarded  to  Burke  over  all  others,  ancient 
or  modern.  But  in  the  actual  conflicts  of  the  Senate,  man 
against  man,  and  opinion  against  opinion,  in  the  noble  war 
of  debate,  where  measures  are  to  be  sustained  and  op 
posed  on  which  the  welfare  of  the  country  and  the  peace 
of  the  world  depend,  where  often  the  line  of  intellectual 
battle  is  changed  in  a  moment — no  time  to  reflect — no 
leisure  to  cull  words,  or  gather  up  illustrations — but  all  to 
be  decided  by  a  vote,  although  the  reputation  of  a  life 
may  be  at  stake — all  this  is  a  very  different  matter,  and 
here  Mr.  Webster  was  immeasurably  the  superior.  Ac 
cordingly,  we  find  historically  (incredible  as  it  sounds,  and 


EDWARD  EVERETT'S  ADDRESS.  499 

what  I  am  ready  to  say  I  will  not  believe,  though  it  is  un 
questionably  true)  that  these  inimitable  orations  of  Burke, 
which  one  cannot  read  without  a  thrill  of  admiration  to 
his  fingers'  ends,  actually  emptied  the  benches  of  Parlia 
ment. 

Ah,  gentlemen,  it  was  very  different  with  our  great  par 
liamentary  orator.  He  not  only  chained  to  their  seats 
willing,  or,  if  there  were  such  a  thing,  unwilling  Senators, 
but  the  largest  hall  was  too  small  for  his  audience.  On 
the  memorable  7th  of  March,  1850,  when  he  was  expected 
to  speak  upon  the  great  questions  then  pending  before  the 
country,  not  only  was  the  Senate-chamber  thronged  to  its 
utmost  capacity  at  an  early  hour,  but  all  the  passages  to 
it,  the  rotunda  of  the  Capitol,  and  even  the  avenues  of  the 
city,  were  alive  with  the  crowds  who  wrere  desirous  of 
gaining  admittance.  Another  Senator,  not  a  political 
friend,  was  entitled  to  the  floor.  With  equal  good  taste 
and  feeling,  he  stated  that  "  he  was  aware  that  great  mul 
titudes  had  not  come  together  to  hear  him ;  and  he  was 
pleased  to  yield  the  floor  to  the  only  man,  as  he  believed, 
who  could  draw  together  such  an  assembly."  This  senti 
ment,  the  effusion  of  parliamentary  courtesy,  will,  perhaps, 
be  found  no  inadequate  expression  of  what  will  finally  be 
the  judgment  of  posterity. 

Among  the  many  memorable  words  which  fell  from  the 
lips  of  our  friend  just  before  they  were  closed  forever,  the 
most  remarkable  are  those  which  my  friend  Hilliard  has 
just  quoted, — "I  STILL  LIVE."  They  attest  the  serene 
composure  of  his  mind;  the  Christian  heroism  with  which 
he  was  able  to  turn  his  consciousness  in  upon  himself,  and 
explore,  step  by  step,  the  dark  passage,  (dark  to  us,  but  to 
him,  we  trust,  already  lighted  from  above,)  which  connects 
this  world  with  the  world  to  come.  But  I  know  not,  Mr. 
Chairman,  what  words  could  have  been  better  chosen  to 
express  his  relation  to  the  world  he  was  leaving — "  I  still 
live."  This  poor  dust  is  just  returning  to  the  dust  from 
which  it  was  taken,  but  I  feel  that  I  live  in  the  affections 
of  the  people  to  whose  services  I  have  consecrated  my 
days.  "I  still  live."  The  icy  hand  of  death  is  already 
laid  on  my  heart,  but  I  shall  still  live  in  those  words  of 
counsel  which  I  have  uttered  to  niy  fellow-citizens,  and 


500  EULOGIES   ON   WEBSTER. 

which  I  now  leave  them  as  the  last  bequest  of  a  dying 
friend. 

Mr.  Chairman,  in  the  long  and  honored  career  of  our 
lamented  friend,  there  are  efforts  and  triumphs  which  will 
hereafter  fill  one  of  the  brightest  pages  of  our  history. 
But  I  greatly  err  if  the  closing  scene — the  height  of  the 
religious  sublime — does  not,  in  the  judgment  of  other 
days,  far  transcend  in  interest  the  brightest  exploits  of 
public  life.  Within  that  darkened  chamber  at  Marshfield 
was  witnessed  a  scene  of  which  we  shall  not  readily  find 
the  parallel.  The  serenity  with  which  he  stood  in  the 
presence  of  the  king  of  terrors,  without  trepidation  or 
flutter,  for  hours  and  days  of  expectation ;  the  thought- 
fulness  for  the  public  business,  when  the  sands  were  so 
nearly  run  out;  the  hospitable  care  for  the  reception  of 
the  friends  who  came  to  Marshfield;  that  affectionate  and 
solemn  leave  separately  taken,  name  by  name,  of  wife, 
and  children,  and  kindred,  and  friends,  and  family,  down 
to  the  humblest  members  of  the  household ;  the  designa 
tion  of  the  coming  day,  then  near  at  hand,  when  "  all  that 
was  mortal  of  Daniel  Webster  would  cease  to  exist !"  the 
dimly-recollected  strains  of  the  funeral  poetry  of  Gray ; 
the  last  faint  flash  of  the  soaring  intellect;  the  feebly 
murmured  words  of  Holy  Writ  repeated  from  the  lips  of 
the  good  physician,  who,  when  all  the  resources  of  human 
art  had  been  exhausted,  had  a  drop  of  spiritual  balm  for 
the  parting  soul ;  the  clasped  hands ;  the  dying  prayers. 
Oh,  my  fellow-citizens,  this  is  a  consummation  over  which 
tears  of  pious  sympathy  will  be  shed  ages  after  the  glories 
of  the  forum  and  the  Senate  are  forgotten. 

"  His  sufferings  ended  with  the  day; 

Yet  lived  he  at  its  close, 
And  breathed  the  long,  long  night  away 
In  statue-like  repose. 

"  But  ere  the  sun,  in  all  his  state, 

Illumed  the  eastern  skies, 
He  pass'd  through  glory's  morning  gate, 
Aud  walk'd  in  Paradise." 


KUFUS  CHOATE'S  ADDRESS  501 


XV. 

RUFUS   CHOATE'S   ADDRESS,  DELIVERED   BEFORE    THE   SUF 
FOLK  BAR  IN  BOSTON,  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MR.  WEBSTER. 

MAY  IT  PLEASE  YOUR  HONOR  :  I  have  been  requested 
by  the  members  of  the  bar  of  this  court  to  present  certain 
resolutions  in  which  they  have  embodied,  as  they  were  able, 
their  sorrow  for  the  death  of  their  beloved  and  illustrious 
member  and  countryman,  Mr.  Webster;  their  estimation 
of  his  character,  life,  and  genius;  their  sense  of  the  bereave 
ment — to  the  country  as  to  his  friends — incapable  of  repair ; 
the  pride,  the  fondness — the  filial  and  patriotic  pride  and 
fondness — with  which  they  cherish,  and  would  consign  to 
history  to  cherish,  the  memory  of  a  great  and  good  man. 

And  when  I  have  presented  these  resolutions,  my  duty 
is  done.  He  must  have  known  Mr.  Webster  less  and  loved 
him  less  than  your  honor,  or  than  I  have  known  and  loved 
him,  who  can  quite  yet — quite  yet,  before  we  can  compre 
hend  that  we  have  lost  him  forever — before  the  first  pale 
ness  with  which  the  news  of  his  death  overspread  our 
cheeks,  has  passed  away  ;  before  we  have  been  down  to  lay 
him  in  the  Pilgrim  soil  he  loved  so  well,  till  the  heavens  be 
no  more — he  must  have  known  and  loved  him  less  than  we 
have  done,  who  can  come  here  quite  yet,  to  recount  the 
series  of  his  service — to  display  with  psychological  exact 
ness  the  traits  of  his  nature  and  mind — to  ponder  and 
speculate  on  the  secrets,  on  the  marvellous  secrets  and 
sources  of  that  vast  power,  which  we  shall  see  no  more  in 
action,  nor  aught  in  any  degree  resembling  it,  among  men. 
These  first  moments  should  be  given  to  grief,  It  may  em 
ploy — it  may  promote  a  calmer  mood  to  construct  a  more 
elaborate  and  less  unworthy  memorial. 

For  the  purposes  of  this  moment  and  place,  indeed,  no 
more  is  needed.  What  is  there  for  this  court  or  for  this 
bar  from  me  to  learn,  here  and  now  of  him  ?  The  year 
and  the  day  of  his  birth;  that  birthplace  on  the  frontier 
yet  bleak  and  waste  ;  the  well  of  which  his  childhood  drank 
— dug  by  that  father  of  whom  he  said,  "that  through  the 


502  EULOGIES   ON   WEBSTER. 

fire  and  blood  of  seven  years'  revolutionary  war,  he  shrank 
from  no  danger,  no  toil,  no  sacrifice,  to  serve  his  country, 
and  to  raise  his  children  to  a  condition  better  than  his 
own" — the  elm-tree  that  father  planted,  fallen  now,  as 
father  and  son  have  fallen — that  training  of  the  giant  in 
fancy  on  Catechism  and  Bible,  and  Watts 's  version  of  the 
Psalms,  and  the  traditions  of  Plymouth  and  Fort  William 
and  Mary,  and  the  Revolution,  and  the  age  of  Washing 
ton  and  Franklin  ;  on  the  banks  of  the  Merrimack,  flowing 
sometimes  in  flood  and  anger,  from  his  secret  springs  in  the 
crystal  hills ;  the  two  district  schoolmasters,  Chase  and 
Tappan;  the  village-library;  the  dawning  of  the  love  and 
ambition  of  letters ;  the  few  months  at  Exeter  and  Bos- 
cawen ;  the  life  of  college ;  the  probationary  season  of 
schoolteaching ;  the  clerkship  in  the  Fryburg  Registry  of 
Deeds ;  his  admission  to  the  Bar,  presided  over  by  judges 
like  Smith,  illustrated  by  practitioners  such  as  Mason, 
where  by  the  studies,  in  the  contentions  of  nine  years  he 
laid  the  foundation  of  the  professional  mind  ;  his  irresistible 
attraction  to  public  life  ;  the  oration  on  commerce ;  the 
Rockingham  resolutions ;  his  first  term  of  four  years'  ser 
vice  in  Congress,  when  by  one  bound  he  sprang  to  his  place 
by  the  side  of  the  foremost  of  the  rising  American  states 
men  ;  his  removal  to  this  State ;  and  then  the  double  and 
parallel  current  in  which  his  life,  studies,  thoughts,  and 
cares,  have  since  flowed,  bearing  him  to  the  leadership  of 
the  Bar,  by  universal  acclaim ;  bearing  him  to  the  leader 
ship  of  public  life — last  of  that  surpassing  triumvirate, 
shall  we  say  the  greatest,  the  most  widely  known  and  ad 
mired — of  all  ?  These  things,  to  their  minutest  details, 
are  known  and  rehearsed  familiarly.  Happier  than  the 
younger  Pliny,  happier  than  Cicero,  he  has  found  his  his 
torian  unsolicited,  in  his  lifetime — and  his  countrymen 
have  him  all  by  heart. 

There  is,  then,  nothing  to  tell  you ;  nothing  to  bring  to 
mind.  And  then,  if  I  may  borrow  the  language  of  one 
of  his  historians  and  friends — one  of  those  through  whose 
beautiful  pathos  the  common  sorrow  uttered  itself  yester 
day,  in  Faneuil  Hall — "I  dare  not  come  here,  and  dismiss 
in  a  few  summary  paragraphs  the  character  of  one  who  has 
filled  such  a  space  in  the  history — who  holds  such  a  place 


RUFUS  CHOATE'S  ADDRESS.  503 

in  the  heart — of  his  country.  It  would  be  a  disrespectful 
familiarity  to  a  man  of  his  lofty  spirit,  his  great  soul,  his 
rich  endowments,  his  long  and  honorable  life,  to  endeavor 
thus  to  weigh  and  estimate  them."  A  half-hour  of  words, 
a  handful  of  earth,  for  fifty  years  of  great  deeds,  on  high 
places ! 

But  although  the  time  does  not  require  any  thing  elabo 
rated  and  adequate — forbids  it  rather — some  broken  sen 
tences  of  veneration  and  love  may  be  indulged  to  the 
sorrow  which  oppresses  us. 

There  presents  itself,  on  the  first,  to  any  observation  of 
Mr.  Webster's  life  and  character,  a  twofold  eminence — 
eminence  of  the  very  highest  rank  in  a  twofold  field  of  in 
tellectual  public  display — the  profession  of  the  law,  and 
the  profession  of  statesmanship — of  which  it  would  not  be 
easy  to  recall  any  parallel  in  the  biography  of  illustrious 
men. 

Without  seeking  for  parallels,  and  without  asserting  that 
they  do  not  exist,  consider  that  he  was  by  universal  desig 
nation  the  leader  of  the  general  American  Bar  ;  and  that  he 
was  also,  by  an  equally  universal  designation,  foremost  of 
her  statesmen  living  at  his  death — inferior  to  not  one  who 
has  lived  and  acted  since  the  opening  of  his  own  public  life. 
Look  at  these  aspects  of  his  greatness  separately, — and 
from  opposite  sides  of  the  surpassing  elevation,  consider 
that  his  single  career  at  the  Bar  may  seem  to  have  been 
enough  to  employ  the  largest  faculties  without  repose — for 
a  lifetime — and  that  if  then  and  thus  the  "  infinitus 
forensium  rerum  labor''  would  have  conducted  him  to  a 
mere  professional  reward — a  Bench  of  Chancery  or  Law — 
the  crown  of  the  first  of  advocates — jurisperitorum  elo- 
quentissimus — to  the  pure  and  mere  fame  of  a  great  magis 
trate — that  that  would  be  as  much  as  is  allotted  to  the 
ablest  in  the  distribution  of  fame.  Even  that  half — if  I 
may  say  so — of  his  illustrious  reputation — how  long  the 
labor  to  win  it — how  worthy  of  all  that  labor !  He  was 
bred  first  in  the  severest  school  of  the  common  law — in 
which  its  doctrines  were  expounded  by  Smith,  and  its  ad 
ministration  shaped  and  directed  by  Mason, — and  its 
foundation  principles,  its  historical  sources  and  illustra 
tions,  its  connection  with  the  parallel  series  of  statutory 


504  EULOGIES  ON  WEBSTER. 

enactments,  its  modes  of  reading,  and  the  evidence  of  its 
truths, — he  grasped  easily  and  completely :  and  I  have 
myself  heard  him  say,  that  for  many  years,  while  still  at 
the  bar,  he  tried  more  causes,  and  argued  more  questions 
of  fact  to  the  jury  than  perhaps  any  other  member  of  the 
profession  anywhere.  I  have  heard  from  others,  how  even 
then  he  exemplified  the  same  direct,  clear,  and  forcible 
exhibition  of  proofs,  and  the  reasonings  appropriate  to  the 
proofs — as  well  as  the  same  marvellous  power  of  discerning 
instantly  what  we  call  the  decisive  points  of  the  cause  in 
law  and  fact — by  which  he  was  later  more  widely  cele 
brated.  This  was  the  first  epoch  in  his  professional 
training. 

With  the  commencement  of  his  public  life,  or  with  his 
later  removal  to  this  State,  began  the  second  epoch  of  his 
professional  training — conducting  him  through  the  grada 
tion  of  the  national  tribunals  to  the  study  and  practice  of 
the  more  flexible,  elegant,  and  scientific  jurisprudence  of 
commerce  and  of  chancery,  and  to  the  grander  and  less 
fettered  investigation  of  international  jurisprudence  and 
constitutional  law — and  giving  him  to  breathe  the  air  of  a 
more  famous  forum,  in  a  more  public  presence,  with  more 
variety  of  competition ;  although  he  never  met  abler  men, 
as  I  have  heard  him  say,  than  some  of  those  who  initiated 
him  in  the  rugged  discipline  of  the  courts  of  New  Hamp 
shire  ;  and  thus,  at  length,  by  these  studies,  these  labors, 
this  contention,  continued  without  repose,  he  came,  now 
many  years  ago,  to  stand,  omnium  consentu,  at  the  summit 
of  the  American  Bar. 

It  is  common,  and  it  is  easy,  in  the  case  of  all  in  such 
position,  to  point  out  other  lawyers,  here  and  there,  as 
possessing  some  special  qualification  or  attainment  more 
remarkably,  perhaps,  because  more  exclusively  ;  to  say  of 
one  that  he  has  more  cases  in  his  recollection  at  any  given 
moment ;  or  that  he  was  earlier  grounded  in  equity ;  or 
has  gathered  more  black-letter,  or  civil  law,  or  knowledge 
of  Spanish  or  Western  titles ;  and  these  comparisons  were 
sometimes  made  with  him.  But  when  you  sought  a  counsel 
,df  the  first-rate  for  the  great  cause,  who  would  most  surely 
discern  and  most  powerfully  expound  the  exact  law  re 
quired  for  the  controversy,  in  season  for  use ;  who  could 


PvUFUS   CIIOATE'S   ADDRESS.  505 

most  skilfully  encounter  the  opposing  law  ;  under  whose 
power  of  analysis,  persuasion,  and  display,  the  asserted 
right  would  assume  the  most  forcible  aspect  before  the  in 
telligence  of  the  judge  ;  who,  if  the  inquiry  became  loaded 
with,  or  resolved  into  facts,  could  most  completely  develop 
and  most  irresistibly  expose  them ;  one  "  the  law's  whole 
thunder  born  to  wield" — when  you  sought  such  a  counsel, 
and  could  have  the  choice,  I  think  the  universal  profession 
would  have  turned  to  him.  And  this  would  be  so  in  nearly 
every  description  of  causes.  In  any  department,  some  able 
men  wield  civil  inquiries  with  a  peculiar  ability — some 
criminal.  How  lucidly  and  how  deeply  he  unfolded  a 
question  of  property,  you  all  know.  But  then  with  what 
address,  feeling,  and  pathos,  he  defended  ;  with  what  dignity 
and  crushing  power,  accusatorial  spiritu,  he  prosecuted  the 
accused  of  crime,  few  have  seen ;  but  none  who  have  seen 
can  ever  forget  it. 

Some  scenes  there  are — some  Alpine  eminences  rising 
above  the  high  table-land  of  such  a  professional  life,  to 
which,  in  the  briefest  tribute,  we  should  love  to  follow  him. 
We  recall  that  day  for  an  illustration,  when  he  first  an 
nounced  with  decisive  display,  what  manner  of  man  he  was 
to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  nation.  It  was  in  1816,  and 
it  was  in  the  argument  of  the  case  of  the  Dartmouth  College. 
William  Pinckney  was  recruiting  his  great  faculties,  and 
replenishing  that  reservoir  of  professional  and  elegant 
acquisition  in  Europe.  Samuel  Dexter,  "the  honorable 
man,  and  the  councillor,  and  the  elegant  orator,"  was  in 
his  grave.  The  boundless  old-school  learning  of  Luther 
Martin ;  the  silver  voice  and  infinite  analytical  ingenuity 
and  resources  of  Jones,  the  fervid  genius  of  Emmett, 
pouring  itself  along  immenso  ore  ;  the  ripe  and  beautiful 
culture  of  Wirt  and  Hopkinson — the  steel  point  unseen, 
not  unfelt,  beneath  the  foliage ;  these  and  such  as  these 
were  left  of  that  noble  Bar.  That  day,  Mr.  Webster- 
opened  the  case  of  Dartmouth  College  to  a  tribunal  unsur 
passed  on  earth  in  all  that  gives  illustration  to  a  Bench  of 
Law,  not  one  of  whom  any  longer  survives. 

One  would  love  to  linger  on  the  scene,  when,  after  a 
masterly  argument  of  the  law, — carrying,  as  we  may  now 
know,  conviction  to  the  general  mind  of  the  court,  and 


506  EULOGIES    ON    WEBSTER. 

vindicating  and  settling  for  his  lifetime  his  place  in  that 
forum — he  paused  to  enter,  with  an  altered  feeling,  tone, 
and  manner,  with  these  words,  on  his  peroration  :  "  I  have 
brought  my  alma  mater  to  this  presence,  that  if  she  must 
fall,  she  may  fall  in  her  robes,  and  with  dignity  ;"  and  then 
broke  forth  in  that  strain  of  sublime  and  pathetic  elo 
quence,  of  which  we  know  not  much  more  than  that,  in  its 
progress,  Marshall — the  intellectual,  the  self-controlled,  the 
unemotioned — announced  visibly  the  presence  of  the  unac 
customed  enchantment. 

Other  forensic  triumphs  crowd  upon  us — in  other  com 
petition — with  other  issues.  But  I  must  commit  them  to 
the  historian  of  constitutional  jurisprudence. 

And  now,  if  this  transcendent  professional  reputation 
were  all  of  Mr.  Webster,  it  might  be  practicable,  though 
not  easy,  to  find  its  parallel  elsewhere — in  our  own,  or  in 
European  or  classical  biography. 

But  when  you  consider  that,  side  by  side  with  this,  there 
was  growing  up  that  other  reputation — that  of  the  first 
American  statesman ;  that  for  thirty-three  years — those 
embracing  his  most  herculean  works  at  the  Bar — he  wa8 
engaged  as  a  member  of  either  House,  or  in  the  highest 
Executive  Departments,  in  the  conduct  of  the  largest  na 
tional  affairs ;  in  the  treatment  of  the  largest  national 
questions  ;  in  debate  with  the  highest  abilities  of  American 
public  life  ;  conducting  diplomatic  intercourse  in  delicate 
relations  with  all  classes  of  foreign  powers  ;  investigat 
ing  whole  classes  of  truths,  totally  unlike  the  truths  of 
law,  and  resting  on  principles  totally  distinct, — and  that 
here,  too,  he  was  wise,  safe,  controlling,  trusted,  the  fore 
most  man ;  that  Europe  had  come  to  see  in  his  life  a 
guarantee  for  justice,  for  peace,  for  the  best  hope  of  civili 
zation,  and  America  to  feel  sure  of  her  glory,  her  safety, 
as  a  great  arm  enfolded  her ; — you  see  how  rare,  how  soli 
tary  almost  was  the  actual  greatness  !  Who  anywhere  has 
seen,  as  he  had,  the  double  fame,  wore  the  double  wreath 
of  Murray  and  Chatham  ;  or  of  Dunning  and  Fox ;  or  of 
Erskine  and  Pitt ;  or  of  William  Pinckney  and  Rufus  King, 
in  one  transcendent  superiority  ? 

I  cannot  attempt  to  grasp  and  sum  up  the  aggregate  of 
the  service  of  his  public  life  at  such  a  moment  as  this — 


RUFUS  CHOATE'S  ADDRESS.  507 

and  it  is  needless.  That  it  comprised  a  term  of  more  than 
thirty-three  years.  It  produced  a  body  of  performances 
of  which  I  may  say  generally,  it  was  all  which  the  first 
abilities  of  the  country  and  time,  employed  with  unex 
ampled  toil,  stimulated  by  the  noblest  patriotism ;  in  the 
highest  places  of  the  state — in  the  fear  of  God — in  the 
presence  of  nations — could  possibly  compass. 

He  came  into  Congress  after  the  war  of  1812  had  begun, 
and  though  probably  deeming  it  unnecessary,  according  to 
the  highest  standards  of  public  necessity,  in  his  private 
character — and  objecting  in  his  public  to  some  of  the  de 
tails  of  the  policy  by  which  it  was  prosecuted,  and  stand 
ing  by  party  ties  in  general  opposition  to  the  administra 
tion — he  never  breathed  a  sentiment  calculated  to  depress 
the  tone  of  the  public  mind  ;  to  aid  or  comfort  the  enemy ; 
to  check  or  chill  the  stirrings  of  that  new,  passionate,  un 
quenchable  spirit  of  nationality,  which  then  was  revealed, 
or  kindled  to  burn  till  we  go  down  to  the  tomb  of  states. 

With  the  peace  of  1815,  his  more  cherished  public  labors 
began ;  and  thenceforward  has  he  devoted  himself — the 
ardor  of  his  civil  youth— the  energies  of  his  maturest  man 
hood — the  autumnal  wisdom  of  the  ripened  years — to  the 
offices  of  legislation  and  diplomacy — of  preserving  the 
peace — keeping  the  honor — establishing  the  boundaries, 
and  vindicating  the  neutral  rights  of  his  country — restor 
ing  a  sound  currency,  and  laying  its  foundation  sure  and 
deep — in  upholding  public  credit — in  promoting  foreign 
commerce  and  domestic  industry — in  developing  our  un 
counted  material  resources — giving  the  lake  and  the  river 
to  trade — and  vindicating  and  interpreting  the  Constitution 
and  the  law.  On  all  these  subjects — on  all  measures  prac 
tically  in  any  degree  affecting  them — he  has  inscribed  his 
opinions  and  left  the  traces  of  his  hand.  Everywhere  the 
philosophical  and  patriotic  statesman  and  thinker  will  find 
that  he  has  been  before  him,  lighting  the  way — sounding 
the  abyss.  His  weighty  language — his  sagacious  warnings 
— his  great  maxims  of  empire — will  be  raised  to  view,  and 
L  fe  to  be  deciphered  when  the  final  catastrophe  shall  lift 
the  granite  foundation  in  fragments  from  its  bed. 

In  this  connection,  I  cannot  but  remark  to  how  extra 
ordinary  an  extent  had  Mr.  Webster,  by  his  acts,  words, 


508  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

thoughts,  or  the  events  of  his  life,  associated  himself  for 
ever  in  the  memory  of  all  of  us  with  every  historical  inci 
dent,  or  at  least  with  every  historical  epoch  ;  with  every 
policy,  with  every  glory,  with  every  great  name  and  fun 
damental  institution,  and  grand  or  beautiful  image,  which 
are  peculiarly  and  properly  American.  Look  backwards 
to  the  planting  of  Plymouth  and  Jamestown,  to  the  various 
scenes  of  colonial  life  in  peace  and  war  ;  to  the  opening, 
and  march,  and  close  of  the  Revolutionary  drama — to  the 
age  of  the  Constitution — to  Washington,  and  Franklin, 
and  Adams,  and  Jefferson — to  the  whole  train  of  causes 
from  the  Reformation  downward,  which  prepared  us  to  be 
Republicans — to  that  other  train  of  causes  which  led  us  to 
be  Unionists  ;  look  round  on  field,  workshop,  and  deck, 
and  hear  the  music  of  labor  rewarded,  fed  and  protected 
— look  on  the  bright  sisterhood  of  the  States,  each  sing 
ing  as  a  seraph  in  her  motion,  yet  blending  in  a  common 
beam  and  swelling  a  common  harmony — and  there  is 
nothing  which  does  not  bring  him  by  some  tie  to  the 
memory  of  America. 

We  seem  to  see  his  form  and  hear  his  deep,  grave  speech 
everywhere.  By  some  felicity  of  his  personal  life ;  by 
some  wise,  deep  or  beautiful  word  spoken  or  written  ;  by 
some  service  of  his  own,  or  some  commemoration  of  the 
services  of  others,  it  has  come  to  pass  that  "  our  granite 
hills,  our  inland  seas,  and  prairies,  and  fresh,  unbounded, 
magnificent  wilderness  ;"  our  encircling  ocean  ;  the  rock 
of  the  Pilgrims  ;  our  new-born  sister  of  the  Pacific ;  our 
popular  assemblies ;  our  free  schools,  all  our  cherished 
doctrines  of  education,  and  of  the  influence  of  religion, 
and  material  policy  and  law,  and  the  Constitution,  give  us 
back  his  name.  What  American  landscape  will  you  looK 
on — what  subject  of  American  interest  will  you  study — • 
what  source  of  hope  or  of  anxiety,  as  an  American,  will 
you  acknowledge,  that  it  does  not  recall  him  ? 

I  shall  not  venture,  in  this  rapid  and  general  recollec 
tion  of  Mr.  Webster,  to  attempt  to  analyze  that  intellec 
tual  power  which  all  admit  to  have  been  so  extraordinary, 
or  to  compare  or  contrast  it  with  the  mental  greatness  of 
others — in  variety  or  degree — of  the  living  or  the  dead ; 
:>r  even  to  attempt  to  appreciate  exactly,  and  in  reference 


RUFUS  CHOATE'S  ADDRESS.  509 

to  canons  of  art,  his  single  attribute  of  eloquence.  Con 
sider,  however,  the  remarkable  phenomenon  of  excellence 
in  three  unkindred,  one  might  have  thought  incompatible, 
forms  of  public  speech — that  of  the  forum,  with  its  double 
audience  of  bench  and  jury, — of  the  halls  of  legislation — 
arid  of  the  most  thronged  and  tumultuous  assemblies  of 
the  people. 

Consider,  further,  that  this  multiform  eloquence,  exactly 
as  his  words  fell,  became  at  once  so  much  accession  to  per 
manent  literature,  in  the  strictest  sense — solid,  attractive, 
and  rich — and  ask  how  often  in  the  history  of  public  life 
such  a  thing  has  been  exemplified.  Recall  what  pervaded 
all  these  forms  of  display,  and  every  effort  in  every  form, 
that  union  of  marked  intellect  in  its  largest  measure,  which 
penetrates  to  the  exact  truth  of  the  matter  in  hand  by 
intuition,  or  by  inference,  and  discerns  every  thing  which 
may  make  it  intelligible,  probable,  and  creditable  to  an 
other,  with  an  emotional  and  moral  nature,  profound,  pas 
sionate,  and  ready  to  kindle,  and  with  imagination  enough 
to  supply  a  hundredfold  more  of  illustration  and  aggran 
dizement  than  his  taste  suffered  him  to  accept — that  union 
of  greatness  of  soul  with  depth  of  heart,  which  made  his 
speaking  almost  more  an  exhibition  of  character  than  of 
mere  genius — the  style  not  merely  pure,  clear  Saxon,  but 
so  constructed,  so  numerous  as  far  as  becomes  prose,  so 
forcible,  so  abounding  in  unlabored  felicities,  the  words  so 
choice,  the  epithet  so  pictured,  the  matter  absolute  truth, 
or  the  most  exact  and  spacious  resemblance  the  human  wit 
can  devise,  the  treatment  of  the  subject,  if  you  have  re 
gard  to  the  kind  of  truth  he  had  to  handle,  political, 
ethical,  legal,  as  deep,  as  complete,  as  Paley's,  or  Locke's, 
or  Butler's,  or  Alexander  Hamilton's,  of  their  subjects, 
yet  that  depth  and  that  completeness  of  sense,  made  trans 
parent  as  through  crystal  waters — all  embodied  in  harmo 
nious  or  well-composed  periods ;  raised  on  winged  lan 
guage,  vivified,  fused  and  poured  along  in  a  tide  of 
emotion,  fervid  and  incapable  to  be  withstood — recall  the 
form,  the  eye,  the  brow,  the  tone  of  voice,  the  presence 
of  the  intellectual  king  of  men — recall  him  thus,  and  in 
the  language  of  Mr.  Justice  Story,  commemorating  Samuel 
Dexter,  we  may  well  rejoice  that  iv  we  have  lived  in  the 

43* 


510  EuioQIES  ON  WEBSTER. 

same  age,  that  we  have  listened  to  his  eloquence,  and  been 
instructed  by  his  wisdom." 

I  cannot  leave  the  subject  of  his  eloquence  without 
returning  to  a  thought  I  have  advanced  already.  All  that 
he  has  left — or  the  larger  portion  of  all — is  the  record  of 
spoken  words.  His  works,  as  already  collected,  extend  to 
many  volumes — a  library  of  reason  and  eloquence,  as 
Gibbon  has  said  of  Cicero's — but  they  are  volumes  of 
speeches  only,  or  mainly ;  and  yet  who  does  not  rank  him 
as  a  great  American  author — an  author  as  truly  expound 
ing,  and  as  characteristically  exemplifying,  in  a  pure, 
genuine  and  harmonious  English  style,  the  mind,  thought, 
point  of  view  of  objects,  and  essential  nationality  of  his 
country,  as  any  of  our  authors,  professionally  so  deno 
minated  ?  Against  the  maxim  of  Mr.  Fox,  his  speeches 
read  well,  and  yet  were  good  speeches,  great  speeches,  in 
the  delivery.  For  so  grave  were  they,  so  thoughtful  and 
true — so  much  the  eloquence  of  reason  at  last — so  strik 
ingly,  always,  they  contrived  to  link  the  immediate  topic 
with  other  and  broader  principles ;  ascending  easily  to 
widest  generalizations — so  happy  was  the  reconciliation 
of  the  qualities  which  engage  the  attention  of  hearers,  yet 
reward  the  perusal  of  students  —  so  critically  did  they 
keep  the  right  side  of  the  line  which  parts  eloquence  from 
rhetoric,  and  so  far  do  they  rise  above  the  penury  of  mere 
debate,  that  the  general  reason  of  the  country  has  en 
shrined  them  at  once  and  forever  among  our  classics. 

It  is  a  common  belief  that  Mr.  Webster  was  a  various 
reader ;  and  I  think  it  is  true,  even  to  a  greater  degree 
than  has  been  believed.  In  his  profession  of  politics, 
nothing,  I  think,  worthy  of  attention  had  escaped  him — • 
nothing  of  the  ancient  or  modern  prudence,  nothing  which 
Greek,  or  Roman,  or  European,  or  Universal  History,  or 
public  Biography  exemplified.  I  shall  not  soon  forget 
with  what  admiration  he  spoke  at  an  interview  to  which 
he  admitted  me  while  in  the  Law  School  at  Cambridge, 
of  the  politics  and  ethics  of  Aristotle,  and  of  the  mighty 
mind  which,  as  he  said,  seemed  to  have  "thought  through" 
all  the  great  problems  which  form  the  discipline  of  social 
man.  American  history  and  American  political  literature 
he  had  by  heart — the  long  series  of  influences  which  trained 


RUFUS  CHOATE'S  ADDKESS.  511 

us  for  representative  and  free  government ;  that  other 
series  of  influences  which  moulded  us  into  a  united  go 
vernment ;  the  colonial  era ;  the  age  of  controversy  before 
the  Revolution ;  every  scene  and  every  person  in  that  great 
tragic  action ;  every  question  which  has  successively  en 
gaged  our  politics,  and  every  name  which  has  figured  in 
them — the  whole  stream  of  our  time  was  open,  clear  and 
present,  even,  to  his  eye. 

Beyond  his  profession  of  politics,  so  to  call  it,  he  had 
been  a  diligent  and  choice  reader,  as  his  extraordinary 
style  in  part  reveals  ;  and  I  think  the  love  of  reading 
would  have  gone  with  him,  to  a  later  and  riper  age,  if  to 
such  an  age  it  had  been  the  will  of  God  to  reserve  him. 
This  is  no  place  or  time  to  appreciate  this  branch  of  his 
acquisitions  ;  but  there  is  an  interest  inexpressible  in 
knowing  who  were  any  of  the  chosen  from  among  the 
great  dead,  in  the  library  of  such  a  man.  Others  may 
correct  me,  but  I  should  say  of  that  interior  and  narrower 
circle  were  Cicero,  Virgil,  Shakspeare,  Bacon,  Milton, 
Burke,  Johnson, — to  whom  I  hope  it  is  not  pedantic  nor 
fanciful  to  say,  I  often  thought  his  nature  presented  some 
resemblance ;  the  same  abundance  of  the  general  proposi 
tions  required  for  explaining  a  difficulty  and  returning  a 
sophism,  copiously  and  promptly  occurring  to  him — the 
same  kindness  of  heart  and  wealth  of  sensibility ;  under  a 
manner,  of  course,  more  courteous  and  gracious,  yet  more 
sovereign;  the  same  sufficient,  yet  not  predominant  ima 
gination,  stooping  ever  to  truth,  and  giving  affluence,  viva 
city  and  attraction  to  a  powerful,  correct  and  weighty  style 
of  prose. 

I  cannot  leave  his  life  and  character  without  selecting 
and  dwelling  a  moment  on  one  or  two  of  his  traits,  or  vir 
tues,  or  facilities,  a  little  longer.  There  is  a  collective  im 
pression  made  by  the  whole  of  an  eminent  person's  life, 
beyond  and  other  than,  and  apart  from,  that  which  the 
mere  general  biographer  would  afford  the  means  of  explain 
ing.  There  is  an  influence  of  a  great  man,  derived  from 
things,  indescribable  almost,  or  incapable  of  enumeration, 
or  singly  insufficient  to  account  for  it,  but  through  which  his 
spirit  transpires,  and  his  individuality  goes  forth  on  the 
contemporary  generation.  And  thus,  I  should  say,  one 


512  EULOGIES    ON    WEBSTER. 

great  tendency  of  his  life  and  character  was,  to  elevate  the 
whole  tone  of  the  public  mind.  He  did  this,  indeed,  not 
merely  by  example  ;  he  did  it  by  dealing,  as  he  thought, 
truly,  and  in  manly  fashion,  with  that  public  mind.  He 
evinced  his  love  for  the  people,  not  so  much  by  honeyed 
phrases,  as  by  good  counsels  and  useful  service — vera  pro 
gratis. 

He  showed  how  he  appreciated  them  by  submitting 
sound  arguments  to  their  understandings,  and  right  motives 
to  their  free  will.  He  came  before  them  less,  with  flattery 
than  with  instruction  ;  less  with  a  vocabulary  larded  with 
the  words  humanity  and  philanthropy,  and  progress  and 
brotherhood,  than  with  a  scheme  of  politics,  an  educational, 
social  and  governmental  system,  which  would  have  made 
them  prosperous,  happy  and  great. 

What  the  Greek  historians  said  of  Pericles,  we  all  feel 
might  be  said  of  him  :  "  He  did  not  so  much  follow  as  lead 
the  people,  because  he  framed  not  his  words  to  please  them, 
like  one  who  is  gaining  power  by  unworthy  means,  but  was 
able,  and  dared  on  the  strength  of  high  character,  even  to 
brave  their  anger  by  contradicting  their  will." 

I  should  indicate  it  as  another  influence  of  his  life,  acts 
and  opinions,  that  it  was  in  an  extraordinary  degree  uni 
formly  and  liberally  conservative.  He  saw,  with  the  vision 
as  of  a  prophet,  that  if  our  system  of  united  government 
can  be  maintained  till  a  nationality  shall  be  generated  of 
due  intensity  and  due  comprehension,  a  glory  indeed  mil 
lennial,  a  progress  without  end — a  triumph  of  humanity 
hitherto  unseen — were  ours,  and  therefore  he  addressed 
himself  to  maintain  that  united  government. 

Standing  on  the  rock  of  Plymouth,  he  bid  distant  gene 
rations  hail,  and  saw  them  rising, — demanding  life — "  im 
patient  from  the  skies,"  from  what  then  were  "fresh,  un 
bounded,  magnificent  wildernesses" — from  the  shore  of  the 
great  tranquil  sea — not  yet  become  ours.  But  observe  to 
what  he  would  welcome  them.  It  is  "to  good  government." 
It  is  to  "  treasures  of  science  and  delights  of  learning." 
It  is  to  the  "  sweets  of  domestic  life — the  immeasurable 
good  of  a  rational  existence — the  immortal  hopes  of  Chris 
tianity — the  light  of  everlasting  truth." 

It  will   be  happy,  if  the  wisdom   and  temper  of  his  ad- 


•     RUFUS  CHOATE'S  ADDRESS.  513 

ministration  of  our  foreign  affairs  shall  preside  in  the  time 
which  is  at  hand.  Sobered,  instructed  by  the  examples  and 
warnings  of  all  the  past,  he  yet  gathered,  from  the  study 
and  comparison  of  all  the  eras,  that  there  is  a  silent  pro 
gress  of  the  race  without  return,  to  which  the  counsellings 
of  history  are  to  be  accommodated  by  a  wise  philosophy. 
More  than  or  as  much  as  that  of  any  of  our  public  cha 
racters,  his  statesmanship  was  one  which  recognised  a 
Europe,  an  Old  World,  but  yet  grasped  the  capital  idea 
of  the  American  position,  and  deduced  from  it  the  whole 
fashion  and  color  of  its  policy;  which  discerned  that  we 
are  to  play  a  high  part  in  human  affairs,  but  discerned 
also  what  part  it  is,  peculiar,  distant,  distinct  and  grand, 
as  our  hemisphere  ;  an  influence,  not  a  contact — the  stage 
— the  drama — the  catastrophe,  all  but  the  audience,  all  our 
own ;  and  if  ever  he  felt  himself  at  a  loss,  he  consulted, 
reverently,  the  genius  of  WASHINGTON. 

In  bringing  these  memories  to  a  conclusion — for  I  omit 
many  things,  because  I  dare  not  trust  myself  to  speak  of 
them — I  shall  not  be  misunderstood  or  give  offence,  if  I 
hope  that  one  other  trait  in  his  public  character,  one  doc 
trine,  rather,  of  his  political  creed,  may  be  remembered  and 
appreciated.  It  is  one  of  the  two  fundamental  precepts  in 
which  Plato,  as  expounded  by  the  great  master  of  Latin 
eloquence,  and  reason  and  morals,  comprehends  the  duty 
of  those  who  share  in  the  conduct  of  the  state,  "  Ut  quce- 
cunque  agunt,  TOTUM  corpus  reipublicce  curent  nedum 
partem  aliquam  tuentur,  reliquas  deserant,"  that  they  com 
prise  in  their  care  the  whole  body  of  the  republic,  nor 
keep  one  part  and  desert  another.  He  gives  the  reason, 
one  reason,  of  the  precept,  "Qui  autem  pwti  civium  eonsu- 
lant,  partem  negligunt  rem  perniciosissimam  in  civitatem 
inducunt  seditionem  atque  discordiam."  The  patriotism 
which  embraces  less  than  the  whole,  induces  sedition  and 
discord,  the  last  evil  of  the  State. 

How  profoundly  he  had  comprehended  this  truth — with 
what  persistency,  with  what  passion,  from  the  first  hour 
he  became  a  public  man  to  the  last  beat  of  the  great  heart, 
he  cnerished  it — how  little  he  accounted  the  good,  the 
praise,  the  blame,  of  this  locality  or  that,  in  comparison 
of  the  larger  good  and  the  general  and  thoughtful  approval 


514  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

of  his  own,  and  our,  whole  America, — she  this  day  feels 
and  announces.  Wheresoever  a  drop  of  her  blood  flows  in 
the  veins  of  man,  this  trait  is  felt  and  appreciated.  The 
hunter  beyond  Superior — the  fisherman  on  the  deck  of  the 
nigh  night-foundered  skiff — the  sailor  on  the  uttermost  sea 
— will  feel,  as  he  hears  these  tidings,  that  the  protection 
of  a  sleepless,  all-embracing,  parental  care  is  withdrawn 
from  him  for  a  space  ;  and  that  his  pathway  henceforward 
is  more  solitary  and  less  safe  than  before. 

But  I  cannot  pursue  these  thoughts.  Among  the  eulogists 
who  have  just  uttered  the  eloquent  sorrow  of  England  at 
the  death  of  the  great  Duke — one  has  employed  an  image 
and  an  idea,  which  I  venture  to  modify  and  appropriate : 

"  The  Northman's  image  of  death  is  finer  than  that  of 
other  climes  ;  no  skeleton,  but  a  gigantic  figure,  that  en 
velops  men  within  the  massive  folds  of  its  dark  garment. 
Webster  seems  so  enshrouded  from  us  as  the  last  of  the 
mighty  three,  themselves  following  a  mighty  series  ;  the 
greatest  closing  the  procession.  The  robe  draws  round 
him,  and  the  era  is  past." 

Yet  how  much  there  is  which  that  all-ample  fold  shall 
not  hide  ! — the  recorded  wisdom  ;  the  great  example ;  the 
assured  immortality. 

They  speak  of  moments ! 

"Nothing  need  cover  his  high  fame  but  heaven, 
No  pyramids  set  off  his  memories, 
But  the  eternal  substance  of  his  greatness, 

TO  WHICH  I  LEAVE  HIM." 


XVI. 

EULOGY  PRONOUNCED  ON   MR.  WEBSTER  IN  FANEUIL  HALL, 
BOSTON,  BY  GEORGE  S.  HILLARD,  ESQ. 

IT  is  now  twenty-six  years  since  the  heart  of  the  nation 
was  so  deeply  moved  by  the  death  of  two  great  founders 
of  the  Republic,  on  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  day 
when  its  independence  was  declared.  Then,  for  the  first 


GEORGE  s.  HILLAIID'S  EULOGY.  515 

time,  these  consecrated  walls  wore  the  weeds  of  mourning. 
Then  the  multitude  that  filled  this  hall  were  addressed  by 
a  man  whose  thoughts  rose  without  effort  to  the  height  of 
his  great  theme.  He  seemed  inspired  by  the  occasion,  and 
he  looked  and  spoke  like  one  on  whom  the  mantle  of  some 
ascended  prophet  had  at  that  moment  fallen.  He  lifted 
up  and  bore  aloft  his  audience  on  the  wings  of  his  mighty 
eloquence.  His  words  fell  upon  his  hearers  with  irresistible, 
subduing  power,  and  their  hearts  poured  themselves  forth 
in  one  deep  and  strong  tide  of  patriotic  and  reverential 
feeling. 

And  now  he,  that  was  then  so  full  of  life  and  power,  has 
gone  to  join  the  patriots  whom  he  commemorated.  Web 
ster  is  no  more  than  Adams  and  Jefferson.  The  people, 
that  then  came  to  listen  to  him,  are  now  here  to  mourn  for 
him.  His  voice  of  wisdom  and  eloquence  is  silent.  The 
arm  on  which  a  nation  leaned  is  stark  and  cold.  The  heroic 
form  is  given  back  to  the  dust.  We  that  delighted  to  honor 
him  in  life  are  now  here  to  honor  him  in  death.  One  circle 
of  duties  is  ended  and  another  is  begun.  We  can  no  longer 
give  him  our  confidence,  our  support,  our  suffrages ;  but 
memory  and  gratitude  are  still  left  to  us.  As  he  has  not 
lived  for  himself  alone,  so  he  has  not  died  for  himself  alone. 
The  services  of  his  life  are  crowned  and  sealed  with  the 
benediction  of  his  death.  So  long  as  a  man  remains  upon 
earth,  his  life  is  a  fragment.  It  is  exposed  to  chance  and 
change,  to  the  shocks  of  fate  and  the  assaults  of  trial. 
But  the  end  crowns  the  work.  A  career  that  is  closed  be 
comes  a  firm  possession  and  a  completed  power.  The  arch 
is  imperfect  till  the  hand  of  death  has  fixed  the  keystone. 

The  custom  of  honoring  great  public  benefactors  by  these 
solemn  observances  is  natural,  just  and  wise.  But  the 
tributes  and  testimonials  which  we  offer  to  departed  worth 
are  for  the  living,  and  not  for  the  dead.  Eulogies,  monu 
ments  and  statues  can  add  nothing  to  the  peace  and  joy 
of  that  serene  sphere  into  which  the  great  and  good,  who 
have  finished  their  earthly  career,  have  passed.  But  these 
expressions  and  memorials  do  good  to  those  from  whom 
they  flow.  They  lift  us  above  the  region  of  low  cares  and 
selfish  struggles.  They  link  the  present  to  the  past,  and 
the  world  of  sense  to  the  world  of  thought.  They  break 


516  EULOGIES    ON    WEBSTER. 

the  common  course  of  life  with  feelings  brought  from  a 
higher  region.  Who  can  measure  the  effect  of  a  scene  like 
this — these  mourning  walls — these  saddened  faces — these 
solemn  strains  of  music?  The  seed  of  a  deep  emotion 
here  planted  may  ripen  into  the  fruit  of  noble  action. 

A  great  man  is  a  gift,  in  some  measure,  a  revelation  of 
God.  A  great  man,  living  for  high  ends,  is  the  divinest 
thing  that  can  be  seen  on  earth.  The  value  and  interest 
of  history  are  derived  chiefly  from  the  lives  and  services 
of  the  eminent  men  whom  it  commemorates.  Indeed,  with 
out  these,  there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  history,  and  the 
progress  of  a  nation  would  be  as  little  worth  recording,  as 
the  march  of  a  trading  caravan  across  a  desert.  The  death 
of  Mr.  Webster  is  too  recent,  and  he  was  taken  away  too 
suddenly  from  a  sphere  of  wide  and  great  influence,  for 
the  calm  verdict  of  history  to  be  passed  upon  him,  and  an 
accurate  gauge  to  be  taken  of  his  works  and  claims.  But 
all  men,  whatever  may  -have  been  the  countenance  they 
turned  toward  him  in  life,  now  feel  that  he  was  a  man  of 
the  highest  order  of  greatness,  and  that  whatever  of  power, 
faculty  and  knowledge  there  was  in  him  was  given  freely, 
heartily,  and  during  a  long  cou/se  of  years,  to  the  service 
of  his  country.  He  who,  in  the  judgment  of  all,  was  a 
great  man  and  a  great  patriot,  not  only  "deserves  these 
honors  at  our  hands,  but  it  would  be  disgraceful  in  us  to 
withhold  them.  We  among  whom  he  lived,  who  felt  the 
power  of  his  magnificent  presence, — his  brow,  his  eyes,  his 
voice,  his  bearing, — can  never  put  him  anywhere  but  in 
the  front  rank  of  the  great  men  of  all  time.  In  running 
ilong  the  line  of  statesmen  and  orators,  we  light  upon  the 
name  of  no  one  to  whom  we  are  willing  to  admit  his  infe 
riority. 

The  theory  that  a  great  man  is  merely  the  product  of 
his  age,  is  rejected  by  the  common  sense  and  common  ob 
servation  of  mankind.  The  power  that  guides  large  masses 
of  men,  and  shapes  the  channels  in  which  the  energies  of  a 
great  people  flow,  is  something  more  than  a  mere  aggregate 
of  derivative  forces.  It  is  a  compound  product,  in  which 
the  genius  of  the  man  is  one  element,  and  the  sphere  opened 
to  him  by  the  character  of  his  age  and  the  institutions  of 
his  country  is  another.  In  the  case  of  Mr.  Webster,  we 


s.  IIILLAIID'S  EULOGY.  517 

have  a  full  co-operation  of  these  two  elements.  Not  only 
did  he  find  opportunities  for  his  great  powers,  but  the 
events  of  his  life,  and  the  discipline  through  which  he 
passed,  were  well  fitted  to  train  him  up  to  that  commanding 
intellectual  stature,  and  perfect  intellectual  symmetry, 
which  have  made  him  so  admirable,  so  eminent,  and  so 
useful  a  person. 

He  was  fortunate  in  the  accident,  or  rather  the  provi 
dence,  of  his  birth.  His  father  was  a  man  of  uncommon 
strength  of  mind  and  worth  of  character,  who  had  served 
his  country  faithfully  in  trying  times,  and  earned  in  a  high 
degree  the  respect  and  confidence  of  his  neighbors — a  man 
of  large  and  loving  heart,  whose  efforts  and  sacrifices  for 
his  children  were  repaid  by  them  with  most  affectionate 
veneration.  The  energy  and  good  sense  of  his  mother 
exerted  a  strong  influence  upon  the  minds  and  characters 
of  her  children.  He  was  born  to  the  discipline  of  poverty ; 
but  a  poverty  such  as  braces  aftd  stimulates,  not  such  as 
crushes  and  paralyzes.  The  region  in  which  his  boyhood 
was  passed  was  new  and  wild,  books  were  not  easy  to  be 
had,  schools  were  only  an  occasional  privilege,  and  inter 
course  with  the  more  settled  parts  of  the  country  was  diffi 
cult  and  rare.  But  this  scarcity  of  mental  food  and  mental 
excitement  had  its  advantages,  and  his  training  was  good, 
however  imperfect  his  teaching  might  have  been.  His 
labors  upon  the  farm  helped  to  form  that  vigorous  constitu 
tion  which  enabled  him  to  sustain  the  immense  pressure  of 
cares  arid  duties  laid  upon  him  in  after-years.  Such  books 
as  he  could  procure  were  read  with  the  whole  heart  arid  the 
whole  mind.  The  conversation  of  a  household,  presided 
over  by  a  strong-minded  father,  and  a  sensible,  loving 
mother,  helped  to  train  the  faculties  of  the  younger  mem 
bers  of  the  family.  Nor  were  their  winter  evenings  want 
ing  in  topics  which  had  a  fresher  interest  than  any  which 
books  could  furnish.  There  were  stirring  tales  of  the 
Revolutionary  struggle  and  the  Old  French  War,  in  both  of 
which  his  father  had  taken  a  part,  with  moving  traditions 
of  the  hardships  and  perils  of  border-life,  and  harrowing 
narratives  of  Indian  captivity,  all  of  which  sunk  deep  into 
the  heart  of  the  impressible  boy.  The  ample  page  of  na 
ture  was  ever  before  his  eyes,  not  beautiful  or  picturesque, 

44 


518  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

but  stern,  wild  and  solitary,  covered  with  a  primeval  forest: 
in  winter,  swept  over  by  tremendous  storms,  but  in  summer 
putting  on  a  short-lived  grace,  and  in  autumn  glowing  with 
an  imperial  pomp  of  coloring.  In  the  deep,  lonely  woods, 
by  the  rushing  streams,  under  the  frosty  stars  of  winter, 
the  musing  boy  gathered  food  for  his  growing  mind.  There 
to  him  the  mighty  mother  unveiled  her  awful  face,  and 
there  we  may  be  sure  that  the  dauntless  child  stretched 
forth  his  hands  and  smiled.  We  feel  a  pensive  pleasure  in 
calling  up  the  image  of  this  slender,  dark-browed,  bright- 
eyed  youth,  going  forth  in  the  morning  of  life  to  sow  the 
seed  of  future  years.  A  loving  brother,  and  a  loving  and 
dutiful  son,  he  is  cheerful  under  privation,  and  patient 
under  restraint.  Whatever  work  he  finds  to  do,  whether 
with  the  brain  or  the  hand,  he  does  it  with  all  his  might. 
He  opens  his  mind  to  every  ray  of  knowledge  that  breaks 
in  upon  him.  Every  step  is  a  progress,  and  every  blow 
removes  an  obstacle.  OHward,  ever  onward,  he  moves; 
borne  "against  the  wind,  against  the  tide,"  by  an  impulse 
self-derived  and  self-sustained.  He  makes  friends,  awakens 
interest,  inspires  hopes.  Thus,  with  these  good  angels 
about  him,  he  passes  from  boyhood  to  youth,  and  from 
youth  to  early  manhood.  The  school  and  the  college  have 
given  him  what  they  had  to  give ;  an  excellent  professional 
training  has  been  secured  ;  and  now,  with  a  vigorous  frame 
and  a  spirit  patient  of  labor,  with  manly  self-reliance,  and 
a  heart  glowing  with  generous  ambition  and  warm  affec 
tions,  the  man,  Daniel  Webster,  steps  forth  into  the  arena 
of  life. 

From  this  point  his  progress  follows  the  natural  law  of 
growth,  and  every  advance  is  justified  and  explained  by 
what  had  gone  before.  For  every  thing  that  he  gains  he 
has  a  perfect  title  to  show.  He  is  borne  on  by  no  fortu 
nate  accident.  The  increase  of  his  influence  keeps  no 
more  than  pace  with  the  growth  of  his  mind  and  the  de 
velopment  of  his  character.  He  is  diligent  in  his  calling, 
and  faithful  to  the  interests  intrusted  to  his  charge.  His 
professional  bearing  is  manly  and  elevated.  He  has  the 
confidence  of  the  court,  and  the  ear  of  the  jury,  and  has 
fairly  earned  them  both.  His  business  increases,  his  repu 
tation  is  extended,  and  he  becomes  a  marked  man.  He  is 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  519 

not  only  equal  to  every  occasion,  but  he  always  leaves  the  im 
pression  of  having  power  in  reserve,  and  of  being  capable  of 
still  greater  efforts.  What  he  does  is  judicious,  and  what  he 
says  is  wise.  He  is  not  obliged  to  retrace  his  steps  or  qualify 
his  statements.  He  blends  the  dignity  and  self-command  of 
mature  life  with  the  ardor  and  energy  of  youth.  To  such 
a  man,  in  our  country,  public  life  becomes  a  sort  of  neces 
sity.  A  brief  service  in  Congress  wins  for  him  the  respect 
and  admiration  of  the  leading  men  of  the  country,  who 
see  with  astonishment  in  a  young  New  Hampshire  lawyer 
the  large  views  of  a  ripe  statesman,  and  a  generous  and 
comprehensive  tone  of  discussion,  free  alike  from  party  bias, 
and  sectional  narrowness.  A  removal  to  the  metropolis  of 
New  England  brings  increase  of  professional  opportunity, 
and  in  a  few  years  he  stands  at  the  head  of  the  Bar  of  the 
whole  country.  Public  life  is  again  thrust  upon  him,  and 
at  one  stride  he  moves  to  the  foremost  rank  of  influence 
and  consideration.  His  prodigious  powers  of  argument 
and  eloquence,  freely  given  to  an  administration  opposed 
to  him  in  politics,  crush  a  dangerous  political  heresy,  and 
kindle  a  deeper  national  sentiment.  The  whole  land  rings 
with  his  name  and  praise,  and  foreign  nations  take  up  and 
prolong  the  sound.  Every  year  brings  higher  trusts, 
weightier  responsibilities,  wider  influence,  until  his  country 
reposes  in  the  shadow  of  his  wisdom,  and  the  power  that 
proceeds  from  his  mind  and  character  becomes  one  of  the 
controlling  forces  in  the  movements  and  relations  of  the 
civilized  world. 

To  trace,  step  by  step,  the  incidents  of  such  a  career, 
would  far  transcend  the  limits  of  a  discourse  like  this,  and 
of  all  places,  it  is  least  needed  here.  Judging  of  him  by 
what  he  was,  as  well  as  by  what  he  did,  and  analyzing  the 
aggregate  of  his  powers,  we  observe  that  his  life  moves  in 
three  distinct  paths  of  greatness.  He  was  a  great  lawyer, 
a  great  statesman,  and  a  great  writer.  The  gifts  and  train 
ing,  which  make  a  man  eminent  in  any  one  of  these  depart 
ments,  are  by  no  means  identical  with  those  which  make 
him  eminent  in  any  other.  Very  few  have  attained  high 
rank  in  any  two ;  and  the  distinction  which  Mr.  Web 
ster  reached  in  all  the  three  is  almost  without  parallel  in 
history. 


520  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

He  was,  from  the  beginning,  more  or  less  occupied  with 
public  affairs,  and  he  continued  to  the  last  to  be  a  prac~ 
tising  lawyer ;  but  as  regards  these  two  spheres  of  action, 
his  life  may  be  divided  into  two  distinct  portions.  From 
his  twenty-third  to  his  forty-first  year,  the  practice  of  the 
law  was  his  primary  occupation  and  interest,  but  from  the 
latter  period  to  his  death,  it  was  secondary  to  his  labors  as 
a  legislator  and  statesman.  Of  his  eminence  in  the  law — 
meaning  the  law  as  administered  in  the  ordinary  tribunals 
of  the  country,  without  reference,  for  the  present,  to  con 
stitutional  questions — there  is  but  one  opinion  among  com 
petent  judges.  Some  may  have  excelled  him  in  a  single 
faculty  or  accomplishment,  but  in  the  combination  of 
qualities  which  the  law  requires,  no  man  of  his  time  was, 
on  the  whole,  equal  to  him.  He  was  a  safe  counsellor  and 
a  powerful  advocate  —  thorough  in  the  preparation  of 
causes  and  judicious  in  the  management  of  them — quick, 
far-seeing,  cautious  and  bold.  His  addresses  to  the  jury 
were  simple,  manly  and  direct;  presenting  the  strong 
points  of  the  case  in  his  strong  way,  appealing  to  the 
reason  and  conscience,  and  not  to  passions  and  pre 
judices,  and  never  weakened  by  over-statement.  He  laid 
his  own  mind  fairly  alongside  that  of  the  jury,  and  won 
their  confidence  by  his  sincere  way  of  dealing  with  them. 
He  had  the  grace  to  cease  speaking  when  he  had  come  to 
an  end.  His  most  conspicuous  power  was  his  clearness  of 
statement.  He  threw  upon  every  subject  a  light  like  that 
of  the  sun  at  noonday.  His  mind,  by  an  unerring  instinct, 
separated  the  important  from  the  unimportant  facts  in  a 
complicated  case,  and  so  presented  the  former,  that  he  was 
really  making  a  powerful  and  persuasive  argument,  when 
he  seemed  to  be  telling  only  a  plain  story  in  a  plain  way. 
The  transparency  of  the  stream  veiled  its  depth,  and  its 
depth  concealed  its  rapid  flow.  His  legal  learning  was 
accurate  and  perfectly  at  command,  and  he  had  made  him 
self  master  of  some  difficult  brandies  of  law,  such  as 
special  pleading  and  the  law  of  real  property ;  but  the 
memory  of  some  of  his  contemporaries  was  more  richly 
stored  with  cases.  From  his  remarkable  powers  of  generali 
zation,  his  elementary  reading  had  filled  his  mind  with 
principles,  and  he  examined  the  questions  that  arose  by 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  521 

the  light  of  these  principles,  and  then  sought  in  the  hooks 
for  cases  to  confirm  the  views  which  he  had  reached  by  re 
flection.  He  never  resorted  to  stratagems  and  surprises, 
nor  did  he  let  his  zeal  for  his  client  run  away  with  his  self- 
respect.  His  judgment  was  so  clear,  and  his  moral  sense 
so  strong,  that  he  never  could  help  discriminating  between 
a  good  cause  and  a  bad  one,  nor  betraying  to  a  close  ob 
server  when  he  was  arguing  against  his  convictions.  His 
manner  wa$  admirable,  especially  for  its  repose — an  effect 
ive  quality  in  an  advocate,  from  the  consciousness  of 
strength  which  it  implies.  The  uniform  respect  with 
which  he  treated  the  bench  should  not  be  omitted,  in  sum 
ming  up  his  merits  as  a  lawyer. 

The  exclusive  practice  of  the  law  is  not  held  to  be  the 
best  preparation  for  public  life.  Not  only  does  it  invigor 
ate  without  expanding — not  only  does  it  narrow  at  the 
same  time  that  it  sharpens — but  the  custom  of  addressing 
juries  begets  a  habit  of  over-statement,  which  is  a  great 
defect  in  a  public  speaker,  and  the  mind  that  is  constantly 
occupied  in  looking  at  one  side  of  a  disputed  question  is 
apt  to  forget  that  it  has  two.  Great  minds  triumph  over 
these  influences,  but  it  is  because  they  never  fail,  sooner 
or  later,  to  overleap  the  formal  barriers  of  the  law.  Had 
Mr.  Webster  been  born  in  England,  and  educated  to  the  bar, 
his  powers  could  never  have  been  confined  to  Westminster 
Hall.  He  would  have  been  taken  up  and  borne  into  Parlia 
ment  by  an  irresistible  tide  of  public  opinion.  Born  where 
he  was,  it  would  have  been  one  of  the  greatest  misfortunes, 
if  he  had  narrowed  his  mind  and  given  up  to  his  clients 
the  genius  that  was  meant  for  the  whole  country  and  all 
time.  Admirably  as  he  put  a  case  to  a  jury  or  argued  it 
to  the  court,  it  was  impossible  not  to  feel  that  in  many  in 
stances  an  inferior  person  would  have  done  it  nearly  or 
quite  as  well ;  and  sometimes  the  disproportion  between 
the  man  and  his  work  was  so  great  that  it  reminded  one 
of  the  task  given  to  Michael  Angelo  to  make  a  statue  of 
snow. 

His  advancing  reputation,  however,  soon  led  him  into  a 
class  of  cases,  the  peculiar  growth  of  the  institutions  of 
his  country,  and  admirably  fitted  to  train  a  lawyer  to 
public  lil'o,  because,  though  legal  in  their  form,  they  in- 

U* 


522  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

volve  great  questions  of  politics  and  government.  The 
system  under  which  we  live  is,  in  many  respects,  without  a 
precedent.  Singularly  complicated  in  its  arrangements, 
embracing  a  general  government  of  limited  and  delegated 
powers,  organized  by  an  interfusion  of  separate  sovereign 
ties,  all  with  written  Constitutions  to  be  interpreted  and 
reconciled,  the  imperfection  of  human  language  and  the 
strength  of  human  passion  leaving  a  wide  margin  for  war 
ring  opinions,  it  is  obvious  to  any  person  of  political  ex 
perience  that  many  grave  questions,  both  of  construction 
and  conflicting  jurisdiction,  must  arise,  requiring  wisdom 
and  authority  for  their  adjustment.  Especially  must  this 
be  the  case  in  a  country  like  ours,  of  such  great  extent, 
with  such  immense  material  resources,  and  inhabited  by  so 
enterprising  and  energetic  a  people.  It  was  a  fortunate — 
may  we  not  say  a  providential  ? — circumstance,  that  the 
growth  of  the  country  began  to  devolve  upon  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  United  States  the  consideration  of  this  class 
of  questions,  just  at  the  time  when  Mr.  Webster,  in  his 
ripe  manhood,  was  able  to  give  them  the  benefit  of  his  ex 
traordinary  powers  of  argument  and  analysis.  Previous 
to  the  Dartmouth  College  case,  in  1818,  not  many  import 
ant  constitution;'.!  questions  had  come  before  the  court, 
and,  since  that  time,  the  great  lawyer,  who  then  broke 
upon  them  with  so  astonishing  a  blaze  of  learning  and 
logic,  has  exerted  a  commanding  influence  in  shaping  that 
system  of  constitutional  law — almost  a  supplementary  Con 
stitution — which  has  contributed  so  much  to  our  happiness 
and  prosperity.  Great  as  is  our  debt  of  gratitude  to  such 
judges  as  Marshall  and  Story,  it  is  hardly  less  great  to  such 
a  lawyer  as  Mr.  Webster.  None  would  have  been  more 
ready  than  those  eminent  magistrates  to  acknowledge  the 
assistance  they  had  derived  from  his  masterly  arguments. 

In  the  discussion  of  constitutional  questions,  the  mind 
of  this  great  man  found  a  most  congenial  employment. 
Here,  books,  cases  and  precedents  are  of  comparatively 
little  value.  We  must  ascend  to  first  principles,  and  be 
guided  by  the  light  of  pure  reason.  Not  only  is  a  chain 
of  logical  deduction  to  be  fashioned,  but  its  links  must 
first  be  forged.  Geometry  itself  hardly  lends  the  mind 
into  a  region  of  more  abstract  and  essential  truth.  In 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  523 

these  calm  heights  of  speculation  and  analysis,  the  genius 
of  Mr.  Webster  moved  with  natural  and  majestic  sweep 
Breaking  away  from  precedents  and  details,  and  soaring 
above  the  flight  of  eloquence,  it  saw  the  forms  of  truth  in 
the  colorless  light  and  tranquil  air  of  reason.  When  we 
dream  of  intelligences  higher  than  man,  we  imagine  their 
faculties  exercised  in  serene  inquisitions  like  these, — not 
spurred  by  ambition, — not  kindled  by  passion, — roused  by 
no  motive  but  the  love  of  truth,  and  seeking  no  reward  but 
the  possession  of  it. 

The  respect  which  has  been  paid  to  the  decisions  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  is  one  of  the  signs 
of  hope  for  the  future,  which  are  not  to  be  overlooked  in 
our  desponding  moods.  The  visitor  in  Washington  sees  a 
few  grave  men,  in  an  unpretending  room,  surrounded  by 
none  of  the  symbols  of  command.  Some  one  of  them,  in 
a  quiet  voice,  reads  an  opinion  in  which  the  conflicting 
rights  of  sovereign  States  are  weighed  and  adjusted,  and 
questions,  such  as  have  generally  led  to  exhausting  wars, 
are  settled  by  the  light  of  reason  and  justice.  This  judg 
ment  goes  forth,  backed  by  no  armed  force,  but  com 
manded  by  the  moral  and  intellectual  authority  of  the  tri 
bunal  which  pronounces  it.  It  falls  upon  the  waves  of 
controversy  with  reconciling,  subduing  power;  and  haughty 
sovereignties,  as  at  the  voice  of  some  superior  intelligence, 
put  off  the  mood  of  conflict  and  defiance,  and  yield  a 
graceful  obedience  to  the  calm  decrees  of  central  justice. 
There  is  more  cause  for  national  pride  in  the  deference 
paid  to  the  decisions  of  this  august  tribunal,  than  in  al) 
our  material  triumphs  ;  and  so  long  as  our  people  are  thu? 
loyal  to  reason  and  submissive  to  law,  it  is  a  weakness  to 
despair. 

The  Dartmouth  College  case,  which  has  been  already 
mentioned,  may  be  briefly  referred  to  again,  since  it  forms 
an  important  era  in  Mr.  Webster's  life.  His  argument  in 
that  case  stands  out  among  his  other  arguments,  as  his  speech 
in  reply  to  Mr.  Hayne,  among  his  other  speeches.  ~No 
better  argument  has  been  spoken  in  the  English  tongue,  in 
the  memory  of  any  living  man,  nor  is  the  child  that  is  born 
to-day  likely  to  live  to  hear  a  better.  Its  learning  is 
ample,  but  not  ostentatious ;  its  logic  irresistible ;  its  elo- 


524  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

quence  vigorous  and  lofty.  I  have  often  heard  my  revered 
and  beloved  friend,  Judge  Story,  speak  with  great  anima 
tion  of  the  effect  he  then  produced  upon  the  court.  "  For 
the  first  hour,"  said  he,  "we  listened  to  him  with  perfect 
astonishment;  for  the  second  hour,  with  perfect  delight; 
for  the  third  hour,  with  perfect  conviction."  It  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  he  entered  the  court  on  that  day  a  com 
paratively  unknown  name,  and  left  it  with  no  rival  but 
Pinckney.  All  the  words  he  spoke  on  that  occasion  have 
not  been  recorded.  When  he  had  exhausted  the  resources 
of  learning  and  logic,  his  mind  passed  naturally  and 
simply  into  a  strain  of  feeling  not  common  to  the  place. 
Old  recollections  and  early  associations  came  over  him,  and 
the  vision  of  his  youth  rose  up.  The  genius  of  the  insti 
tution  where  he  was  nurtured  seemed  standing  by  his  side 
in  weeds  of  mourning,  with  a  countenance  of  sorrow.  With 
suffused  eyes  and  faltering  voice,  he  broke  into  an  unpre 
meditated  strain  of  emotion,  so  strong  and  so  deep  that  all 
who  heard  him  were  borne  along  with  it.  Heart  answered 
to  heart  as  he  spoke,  and  when  he  had  ceased,  the  silence 
and  tears  of  the  impassive  Bench,  as  well  as  the  excited 
audience,  were  a  tribute  to  the  truth  and  power  of  the 
feeling  by  which  he  had  been  inspired. 

With  his  election  to  Congress  from  the  city  of  Boston, 
in  1822,  the  great  labors  and  triumphs  of  his  life  begin. 
From  that  time  until  his  death,  with  an  interval  of  about 
two  years  after  leaving  President  Tyler's  Cabinet,  he  was 
constantly  in  the  public  service,  as  Representative,  Sena 
tor,  or  Secretary  of  State.  In  this  period,  his  biography 
is  included  in  the  history  of  his  country.  Without  paus 
ing  to  dwell  upon  the  details,  and  looking  at  his  public 
life  as  a  whole,  let  us  examine  its  leading  features  and 
guiding  principles,  and  inquire  upon  what  grounds  he  en 
joyed  our  confidence  and  admiration  while  living,  and  is 
entitled  to  our  gratitude  when  dead. 

Public  men,  in  popular  governments,  are  divided  into 
two  great  classes — statesmen  and  politicians.  The  differ 
ence  between  them  is  like  the  difference  between  the  artist 
and  the  mechanic.  The  statesman  starts  with  original 
principles,  and  is  propelled  by  a  self-derived  impulse.  The 
politician  has  his  course  to  choose,  and  puts  himself  in  a 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  525 

position  to  make  the  best  use  of  the  forces  which  lie  out 
side  of  him.  The  statesman's  genius  sometimes  fails  in 
reaching  its  proper  sphere,  from  the  want  of  the  politi 
cian's  faculty ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  politician's 
intellectual  poverty  is  never  fully  apprehended  till  he  has 
contrived  to  attain  an  elevation  which  belongs  only  to  the 
statesman.  The  statesman  is  often  called  upon  to  oppose 
popular  opinion,  and  never  is  his  attitude  nobler  than 
when  so  doing  ;  but  the  sagacity  of  the  politician  is  shown 
in  seeing,  a  little  before  the  rest  of  the  world,  how  the 
stream -of  popular  feeling  is  about  to  turn,  and  so  throw 
ing  himself  upon  it  as  to  seem  to  be  guiding  it,  while  he 
is  only  propelled  by  it.  A  statesman  makes  the  occasion, 
but  the  occasion  makes  the  politician. 

Mr.  Webster  was  pre-eminently  a  statesman.  He  rested 
his  claims  upon  principles ;  and  by  these  he  was  ready  to 
stand  or  fall.  In  looking  at  the  endowments  which  he 
brought  to  the  service  of  his  country,  a  prominent  rank  is 
to  be  assigned  to  that  deep  and  penetrating  wisdom  which 
gave  so  safe  a  direction  to  his  genius.  His  imagination, 
his  passion  and  his  sympathies  were  all  kept  in  subordi 
nation  to  this  sovereign  power.  He  saw  things  as  they 
are,  neither  magnified  nor  discolored  by  prejudice  or  pre 
possession.  He  heard  all  sides,  and  did  not  insist  that  a 
thing  was  true  because  he  wished  it  to  be  true,  or  because 
it  seemed  probable  to  his  first  inquiry.  His  post  of  ob 
servation  was  the  central  and  fixed  light  of  reason,  from 
which  all  wandering  and  uncertain  elements  were  at  last 
discerned  in  their  just  relations  and  proportions.  The 
functions  of  government  did  not,  in  his  view,  lie  in  the 
regions  of  speculation  or  emotion.  It  was  "a  contrivance 
of  human  wisdom  to  provide  for  human  wants."  The 
ends  of  government  are,  indeed,  ever  identical ;  but  the 
means  used  to  attain  them  are  various.  The  practical 
statesman  must  aim,  not  at  the  best  conceivable,  but  the 
best  attainable,  good.  Thus  Mr.  Webster  always  recog 
nised  and  accepted  the  necessities  of  his  position.  He 
did  not  hope  against  hope,  nor  waste  his  energies  in 
attempting  the  impossible.  Living  under  a  government  in 
which  universal  suffrage  is"  the  ultimate  propelling  force, 
he  received  the  expressed  sense  of  the  people  as  a  fact,  and 


526  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

not  as  an  hypothesis.  Like  all  men  who  are  long  in  public 
life  under  popular  institutions,  he  incurred  the  reproach 
of  inconsistency;  a  reproach  not  resting  upon  any  change 
of  principle — for  he  never  changed  his  principles — but 
upon  the  modification  of  measures  and  policy  which  every 
enlightened  statesman  yields  to  the  inevitable  march  of 
events  and  innovations  of  time. 

Nor  was  he  less  remarkable  for  the  breadth  and  compre 
hensiveness  of  his  views.  He  knew  no  North,  no  South, 
no  East,  no  West.  His  great  mind  and  patriotic  heart 
embraced  the  whole  land  with  all  its  interests  and  all  its 
claims.  He  had  nothing  of  partisan  narrowness  or  sec 
tional  exclusiveness.  His  point  of  sight  was  high  enough 
to  take  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  his  heart  was  large 
enough  and  warm  enough  to  love  it  all,  to  cling  to  it,  to 
live  for  it,  or  die  for  it.  Nothing  is  more  characteristic 
of  greatness  than  this  capacity  of  enlarged  and  generous 
affections.  No  public  man  ever  earned  more  fully  the 
title  of  a  national,  an  American  statesman.  No  heart 
ever  beat  with  a  higher  national  spirit  than  his.  The 
honor  of  his  country  was  as  dear  to  him  as  the  faces  of 
his  children.  Where  that  was  in  question,  his  great  powers 
blazed  forth  like  a  flame  of  fire  in  its  defence.  Never 
were  his  words  more  weighty,  his  logic  more  irresistible, 
his  eloquence  more  lofty — never  did  his  mind  move  with 
more  majestic  and  victorious  flight — than  when  vindicating 
the  rights  of  his  country,  or  shielding  her  from  unjust 
aspersions. 

It  is  a  hasty  and  mistaken  judgment  to  gauge  the  merits 
of  a  statesman,  under  popular  institutions,  by  the  results 
which  he  brings  about  and  the  measures  which  he  carries 
through.  His  opportunities  in  this  respect  will  depend, 
generally,  upon  the  fact  whether  he  happens  to  be  in  the 
majority  or  the  minority.  How  much  would  be  taken 
from  the  greatness  of  one  of  the  greatest  of  statesmen, 
Mr.  Fox,  if  this  test  were  applied  to  him  !  The  merits  of  a 
statesman  are  to  be  measured  by  the  good  which  he  does, 
by  the  evil  which  he  prevents,  by  the  sentiments  which  ho 
breathes  into  the  public  heart,  and  the  principles  he  dif 
fuses  through  the  public  mind.  Mr.  Webster  did  not  belong 
to  that  great  political  party  which,  under  ordinary  circum- 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  527 

stances,  and  when  no  exceptional  elements  have  been 
thrown  in,  have  been  able  to  command  a  majority  in  the 
whole  nation,  and  upon  which  the  responsibility  of  govern 
ing  the  country  has  been  consequently  thrown.  Thus,  for 
the  larger  part  of  his  public  life,  he  was  in  the  minority. 
But  a  minority  is  as  important  an  element,  in  carrying  on 
a  representative  government,  as  a  majority  ;  and  he  never 
transcended  its  legitimate  functions.  His  opposition  was 
open,  manly  and  conscientious  ;  never  factious,  never  im 
portunate.  He  stated  fairly  the  arguments  to  which  ho 
replied.  He  did  not  stoop  to  personality,  or  resort  to  the 
low  and  cheap  trick  of  impugning  the  motives  or  characters 
of  his  opponents.  He  has  earned  the  respect  which  the 
Democratic  party,  to  their  honor  be  it  spoken,  have  shown 
to  his  memory.  He  was  a  party  man,  to  this  extent — he 
believed  that,  under  a  popular  government,  it  was  expe 
dient  that  men  of  substantially  the  same  way  of  thinking 
in  politics  should  act  together,  in  order  to  accomplish  any 
general  good,  but  he  never  gave  up  to  his  party  what  was 
meant  for  his  country.  When  the  turn  of  the  tide  threw 
upon  him  the  initiative  of  measures,  no  man  ever  showed 
a  wiser  spirit  of  legislation  or  a  more  just  and  enlightened 
policy  of  statesmanship.  He  combined  what  Bacon  calls 
the  logical  with  the  mathematical  part  of  the  mind.  He 
could  judge  well  of  the  mode  of  attaining  any  end,  and 
estimate,  at  the  same  time,  the  true  value  of  the  end  itself. 
His  powers  were  by  no  means  limited  to  attack  and  de 
fence,  but  he  had  the  organizing  and  constructing  mind 
which  shapes  and  fits  a  course  of  policy  to  the  wants  and 
temper  of  a  great  people. 

His  influence  as  a  public  man  extends  over  the  last 
forty  years,  and,  during  that  period,  what  is  there  that 
does  not  bear  his  impress  ?  Go  where  we  will,  upon  land 
or  sea — from  agriculture  to  commerce,  and  from  commerce 
to  manufactures — turn  to  domestic  industry,  to  foreign 
relations,  to  law,  education  and  religion — everywhere  we 
meet  the  image  and  superscription  of  this  imperial  mind. 
The  Ashburton  treaty  may  stand  as  a  monument  of  the 
good  he  did.  His  speech  in  reply  to  Mr.  Hayne  may  be 
cited  as  a  proof  of  the  evil  he  prevented  ;  and,  for  this 
reason,  while  its  whole  effect  can  never  be  measured,  its 


528  EULOGIES    ON    WEBSTER. 

importance  can  hardly  be  overrated.  Probably  no  dis 
course  ever  spoken  by  man  had  a  wider,  more  prominent 
and  more  beneficial  influence.  Not  only  did  it  com 
pletely  overthrow  a  most  dangerous  attack  on  the  Con 
stitution,  but  it  made  it  impossible  for  it  ever  to  be  re 
newed.  From  that  day  forward  the  specious  front  of 
nullification  was  branded  with  treason.  If. we  estimate 
the  claims  of  a  public  man  by  his  influence  upon  the  na 
tional  heart  arid  his  contributions  to  a  high-toned  national 
sentiment,  who  shall  stand  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Webster? 
Where  is  the  theory  of  constitutional  liberty  better  ex 
pounded,  and  the  rules  and  conditions  of  national  well- 
being  and  well-doing  better  laid  down,  than  in  his  speeches 
and  writings  ?  What  books  should  we  so  soon  put  into 
the  hands  of  an  intelligent  foreigner,  who  desired  to  learn 
the  great  doctrines  of  government  and  administration  on 
which  the  power  and  progress  of  our  country  repose,  and 
to  measure  the  intellectual  stature  of  a  finished  American 
man  ? 

The  relation  which  he  held  to  the  politics  of  the  country 
was  the  natural  result  of  a  mind  and  temperament  like  his. 
A  wise  patriot,  who  understands  the  wants  of  his  time,  will 
throw  himself  into  the  scale  which  most  needs  the  weight 
of  his  influence,  and  choose  the  side  which  is  best  for  his 
country  and  not  for  himself.  Hence,  it  may  be  his  duty 
to  espouse  defeat,  and  cleave  to  disappointment.  In  weigh 
ing  the  two  elements  of  law  and  liberty,  as  they  are  mingled 
in  our  country,  he  felt  that  danger  was  rather  to  be  appre 
hended  from  the  preponderance  of  license  than  of  authority 
— that  men  were  attracted  to  liberty  by  the  powerful  in 
stincts  of  the  blood  and  heart,  but  to  law  by  the  colder  and 
fainter  suggestions  of  the  reason.  Hence  he  was  a  con 
servative  at  home,  and  gave  his  influence  to  the  party  of 
permanence  rather  than  progression.  But  in  Europe  it  was 
different.  There  he  saw  that  there  were  abuses  to  be  re 
formed,  and  burdens  to  be  removed ;  that  the  principle  of 
progress  was  to  be  encouraged,  and  that  larger  infusions 
of  liberty  should  be  poured  into  the  exhausted  frames  of 
decayed  states.  Hence,  his  sympathies  were  always  on 
the  side  of  the  struggling  and  the  suffering ;  and,  through 
his  powerful  voice,  the  public  opinion  of  America  made 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  529 

itself  heard  and  respected  in  Europe.  It  is  a  fact  worthy 
of  being  stated  in  this  connection,  that  at  the  moment  when 
a  tempest  of  obloquy  was  beating  upon  him,  from  his  sup 
posed  hostility  to  the  cause  of  freedom  here,  a  very  able 
writer  of  the  Catholic  faith,  in  a  striking  and,  in  many 
respects,  admirable  essay  upon  his  writings  and  public  life, 
came  reluctantly  and  respectfully  to  the  conclusion  that 
Mr.  Webster  had  forfeited  all  claim  to  the  support  of  Ca 
tholic  voters,  from  the  countenance  he  had  given  to  the 
revolutionary  spirit  of  Europe.  Such  are  ever  the  judg 
ments  passed  by  fragmentary  men  upon  a  universal  man. 

His  strong  sense  of  the  value  of  the  Union,  and  the  force 
and  frequency  with  which  he  discoursed  upon  this  theme, 
are  to  be  explained  by  the  same  traits  of  mind  and  cha 
racter.  He  believed  that  we  were  more  in  danger  of 
diffusion  than  consolidation.  He  felt  that  all  the  primal 
instincts  of  patriotism — all  the  chords  of  the  heart — 
bound  men  to  their  own  State,  and  not  to  the  common 
country ;  and  that  with  the  territorial  increase  of  that 
country  it  became  more  and  more  difficult  for  the  central 
heart  to  propel  to  the  extremities  the  life-blood  of  invigor 
ating  national  sentiment,  without  which  a  State  is  but  a 
political  corporation  without  a  soul.  He  knew,  too,  that 
the  name  of  a  Union  might  exist  without  the  substance, 
and  that  a  Union  for  mutual  annoyance  and  defiance,  and 
for  mutual  aid  and  support,  which  kept  the  word  of  pro 
mise  to  the  ear  and  broke  it  to  the  hope,  was  hardly  worth 
the  having.  Hence,  he  labored  earnestly  and  perseveringly 
to  inculcate  a  love  of  the  Union,  and  to  present  the  whole 
country  as  an  object  to  be  cherished,  honored  and  valued, 
because  he  felt  that  on  that  side  our  affections  needed  to 
be  quickened  and  strengthened. 

As  was  to  be  expected,  so  powerful  a  man  could  not 
pass  through  life  without  encountering  strong  opposition. 
All  his  previous  experiences,  however,  were  inconsiderable 
in  comparison  with  the  storm  of  denunciation  which  he 
drew  down  upon  himself  by  his  course  on  what  are  com 
monly  called  the  Compromise  Measures,  and,  especially, 
his  speech  on  that  occasion.  It  was  natural  that  men, 
whose  fervid  sympathies  are  wedded  to  a  single  idea, 
should  Lave  felt  aggrieved  by  the  stand  he  then  took ;  and 

45 


530  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

if  decency  and  decorum  had  governed  their  expressions, 
neither  he  nor  his  friends  could  have  had  any  right  to 
complain.  But,  in  many  cases,  the  attacks  were  so  foul 
and  ferocious  that  they  lost  all  claim  to  be  treated  as 
moral  judgments,  and  sunk  to  the  level  of  the  lowest  and 
coarsest  effusions  of  malice  and  hatred.  It  is  a  good  rule 
in  politics,  as  elsewhere,  to  give  men  credit  for  the  motives 
they  profess  to  be  actuated  by,  and  to  accept  their  own 
exposition  of  their  opinions  as  true.  Let  us  apply  these 
rules  to  his  course  at  that  time.  He.  had  opposed  the  ad 
mission  of  Texas,  and  predicted  the  tr^in  of  evils  which 
would  come  with  it.  He  had  warned  the  North  of  the 
perilous  questions  with  which  that  mtasure  was  fraught. 
But  his  prophetic  voice  was  unheeded.  Between  zeal  on 
one  side,  and  apathy  on  the  other,  Texas  ^.ame  in.  Then 
war  with  Mexico  followed,  ending  in  conquest,  and  leaving 
the  whole  of  that  unhappy  country  at  our  mercy.  Mr. 
Webster  opposed  the  dismembermewt  of  Mexico,  provided 
for  in  the  treaty  of  peace,  on  the  ground  that  no  sooner 
should  we  have  the  immense  territory,  which  we  proposed 
to  take,  than  the  question  whether  slavery  should  exist 
there,  would  agitate  the  country.  But  again  the  warning 
voice  of  his  wisdom  was  unheeded,  and  the  storm,  which 
he  had  predicted,  gathered  in  the  heavens.  The  questions 
against  which  he  had  forewarned  his  countrymen  now 
clamored  for  settlement,  and  would  not  be  put  by  They 
required  for  their  adjustment  the  most  of  reason  and  the 
least  of  passion,  and  they  were  met  in  a  mood  which  com 
bined  the  most  of  passion  and  the  least  of  reason.  The 
North  and  the  South  met  in  "angry  parle,"  and  the  air 
was  darkened  with  their  strife.  Mr.  Webster's  prophetic 
spirit  was  heavy  within  him.  He  felt  that  a  crisis  had 
arrived  in  the  history  of  his  country,  and  that  the  lot  of  a 
solemn  duty  and  a  stern  self-sacrifice  had  fallen  upon  him. 
As  he  himself  said,  "he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  embark 
alone  on  what  he  was  aware  would  prove  a  stormy  sea, 
because,  in  that  case,  should  disaster  ensue,  there  would 
be  but  one  life  lost."  In  this  mood  of  calm  and  high  re 
solve  he  went  forward  to  meet  the  portentous  issue. 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  a  speech  made  under  such 
circumstances,   going   over  so   wide   a  range   of    exciting 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  531 

topics,  should,  in  every  part,  command  the  immediate  and 
entire  assent  even  of  those  who  would  admit  its  truth  arid 
seasonableness  as  a  whole.  It  is  also  doubtless  true,  that 
there  are  single  expressions  in  it,  which,  when  torn  from 
their  context  and  set  by  the  side  of  passages  from  former 
speeches  dealt  with  in  like  manner,  will  not  be  found  abso 
lutely  identical.  But  the  speech  of  such  a  man,  at  such  a 
crisis,  is  not  to  be  dissected  and  criticized  like  a  rhetorical 
exercise.  It  should  be  judged  as  a  whole,  and  read  by  the 
light  of  the  occasion  which  gave  it  birth. 

The  judgments  which  Mr.  Webster's  course  has  called 
forth  were  widely  divided.  By  those  who  hold  extreme 
views,  he  was  charged  with  expressing  sentiments  which 
he  did  not  believe  to  be  true.  It  was  a  bid  for  the 
Presidency,  and  his  conscience  was  the  price  he  offered. 
It  is  a  mere  waste  of  words  to  argue  with  men  of  this 
class.  Fanaticism  darkens  the  mind,  and  hardens  the 
heart,  and  where  there  is  neither  common  sense  nor  com 
mon  charity,  the  first  step  in  a  process  of  reasoning  cannot 
be  taken.  Others  maintained  that  he  was  mistaken  in 
point  of  fact,  that  he  took  counsel  of  his  fears  and  not  of 
his  wisdom,  and  that,  through  him,  the  opportunity  was 
lost  of  putting  down  the  South  in  an  open  struggle  for 
influence  and  power.  But,  in  the  first  place,  it  is  not 
probable  that  a  man  who,  upon  subordinate  questions,  had 
shown  so  much  political  wisdom  and  forecast,  should  have 
been  mistaken  upon  a  point  of  such  transcendent  import 
ance,  to  which  his  attention  had  been  so  long  and  so  ear 
nestly  directed ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  the  testimony  of 
all  men  whose  evidence  would  be  received  with  respect 
upon  any  similar  subject,  fully  sustains  Mr.  Webster  in 
the  views  he  then  took  of  the  state  of  the  country,  and  is 
equally  strong  as  to  the  value  of  the  services  he  rendered. 
In  such  an  issue,  the  testimony  of  retired  persons,  living 
among  books  and  their  own  thoughts,  is  not  entitled  to 
any  great  value,  because  they  can  have  no  adequate  notion 
of  the  duties,  responsibilities  or  difficulties  of  governing  a 
great  state,  and  what  need  there  is  of  patience  and  renun 
ciation  in  those  who  are  called  to  this  highest  of  human 
functions.  A  statesman  has  the  right  to  be  tried  by  his 
peers. 


532  EULOGIES  ON  WEBSTER. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  how  hatred,  whether  personal  or 
political,  when  it  enters  into  the  mind,  disturbs  its  func 
tions,  as  a  piece  of  iron  in  the  binnacle  of  a  ship  misleads 
the  compass.  Many  who  have  found  it  so  hard  to  forgive 
Mr.  Webster  for  his  independence  in  opposing  them,  would 
admit  the  importance  of  having  a  class  of  public  men  who 
will  lead  the  people  and  not  be  led  by  them,  and  that  a 
great  man  is  never  so  great  as  when  withstanding  their 
dangerous  wishes  and  calmly  braving  their  anger.  Their 
eyes  will  sparkle  when  they  speak  of  the  neutral  counte 
nance  of  Washington,  undismayed  by  Jacobrii  clamor,  and 
of  the  sublime  self-devotion  of  Jay.  It  is  strange  that 
they  cannot,  or  will  not,  for  a  moment  look  at  Mr.  Web 
ster's  position  from  a  point  of  view  opposite  to  their  own, 
admit  that  he  may  have  been  in  the  right,  and  see  him 
clad  in  the  beauty  of  self-sacrifice.  It  is  to  be  feared  that 
this  form  of  virtue  is  growing  more  and  more  rare,  as  it 
is  more  and  more  needed.  The  story  of  Curtius  leaping 
into  a  gulf  in  the  Roman  forum  is  but  the  legendary 
form  in1  which  a  perpetual  truth  is  clothed.  In  the  path 
of  time  there  are  always  chasms  of  error,  which  only  a 
great  self-immolating  victim  can  close.  The  glory  has 
departed  from  the  land  in  which  that  self-devoting  stock 
has  died  out. 

Mr.  Webster  was  an  ambitious  man.  He  desired  the 
highest  office  in  the  gift  of  the  people.  But  on  this  sub 
ject,  as  on  all  others,  there  was  no  concealment  in  his 
nature.  An  ambition  is  not  a  weakness,  unless  it  be  dis- 
proportioned  to  the  capacity.  To  have  more  ambition 
than  ability,  is  to  be  at  once  weak  and  unhappy.  With 
him  it  was  a  noble  passion,  because  it  rested  upon  noble 
powers.  He  was  a  man  cast  in  a  heroic  mould.  His 
thoughts,  his  wishes,  his  passions,  his  aspirations,  were  all 
on  a  grander  scale  than  those  of  other  men.  Unexercised 
capacity  is  always  a  source  of  rusting  discontent.  The 
height  to  which  men  may  rise  is  in  proportion  to  the  up 
ward  force  of  their  genius,  and  they  will  never  be  calm 
till  they  have  attained  their  predestined  elevation.  Lord 
Bacon  says,  "  As  in  nature  things  move  violently  to  their 
place,  and  calmly  in  their  place,  so  virtue  in  ambition  is 
violent;  in  authority,  settled  and  ealin."  Mr.  Webster 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  538 

had  a  giant's  brain  and  a  giant's  heart,  and  he  wanted  a 
giant's  work.  He  found  repose  in  those  strong  conflicts 
and  great  duties  which  crush  the  weak  and  madden  the 
sensitive.  He  thought  that,  if  he  were  elevated  to  the 
highest  place,  he  should  so  administer  the  government  as 
to  make  the  country  honored  abroad,  and  great  and  happy 
at  home.  He  thought,  too,  that  he  could  do  something  to 
make  us  more  truly  one  people.  This,  above  every  thing 
else,  was  his  ambition.  And  we,  who  knew  him  better 
than  others,  felt  that  it  was  a  prophetic  ambition,  and  we 
honored  and  trusted  him  accordingly. 

As  a  writer  and  as  a  public  speaker  upon  the  great  in 
terests  of  his  country,  Mr.  Webster  stands  before  us,  and 
will  stand  before  those  who  will  come  after  us,  as  the  lead 
ing  spirit  of  his  time.  Sometimes,  indeed,  his  discussions 
may  have  been  too  grave  to  be  entirely  effective  at  the 
moment  of  their  delivery,  but  all  of  them  are  quarries  of 
political  wisdom ;  for  while  others  have  solved  only  the 
particular  problem  before  them,  he  has  given  the  rule  that 
reaches  all  of  the  same  class.  As  a  general  remark,  hia 
speeches  are  a  striking  combination  of  immediate  effective 
ness  and  enduring  worth.  He  never,  indeed,  goes  out  of 
his  way  for  philosophical  observations,  nor  lingers  long  in 
the  tempting  regions  of  speculation,  but  his  mind,  while  he 
advances  straight  to  his  main  object,  drops  from  its  abun 
dant  stores  those  words  of  wisdom  which  will  keep,  through 
all  time,  a  vital  and  germinating  power.  His  logic  is  vigor 
ous  and  compact,  but  there  is  no  difficulty  in  following 
his  argument,  because  his  reasoning  is  as  clear  as  it  is 
strong.  The  leading  impression  he  leaves  upon  the  mind 
is  that  of  irresistible  weight.  We  are  conscious  of  a  pro 
pelling  power,  before  which  every  thing  gives  way  or  goes 
down.  The  hand  of  a  giant  is  upon  us,  and  we  feel  that 
it  is  in  vain  to  struggle.  The  eloquence  of  Burke,  with 
whom  he  is  always  most  fitly  compared,  is  like  a  broad 
river,  winding  through  a  cultivated  landscape ;  that  of 
Mr.  Webster  is  like  a  clear  mountain-stream,  compressed 
between  walls  of  rock. 

But  his  claims  as  a  writer  do  not  rest  exclusively  upon 
his  political  speeches.  His  occasional  discourses,  and  hia 
diplomatic  writings,  would  alone  make  a  great  reputation. 

45* 


534  EULOGIES  ON  WEBSTER. 

His  occasional  discourses  rise  above  the  rest  of  their  class,  as 
the  Bunker  Hill  monument  soars  above  the  objects  around 
it.  His  Plymouth  Oration,  especially,  is  a  production 
which  all  who  have  followed  in  the  same  path  must  ever 
look  upon  with  admiration  and  despair.  It  was  the  begin 
ning  of  a  new  era  in  that  department  of  literature.  It 
was  the  first  and  greatest  of  its  class,  and  has  naturally 
fixed  a  standard  of  excellence  which  has  been  felt  in  the 
efforts  of  all  who  have  come  after  him.  Its  merits  of  style 
and  treatment  are  of  the  highest  order,  and  it  is  marked 
throughout  by  great  dignity  of  sentiment  and  an  elevating 
and  stirring  tone  of  moral  feeling,  which  lifts  the  mind 
into  regions  higher  than  can  be  reached, by  eloquence,  or 
power  of  expression  alone. 

His  diplomatic  writings  claim  unqualified  praise.  Such 
discussions  require  a  cautious  as  well  as  firm  hand,  for  a 
single  rash  expression,  falling  upon  an  explosive  state  of 
mind,  may  shatter  to  pieces  the  most  hopeful  negotiation. 
Mr.  Webster  combines  great  force  of  statement  with  per 
fect  decorum  of  manner.  It  is  the  iron  hand,  but  the 
silken  glove.  He  neither  claims  nor  yields  a  single  inch 
beyond  the  right.  His  attitude  is  neither  aggressive  nor 
distrustful.  He  is  strong  in  himself  and  strong  in  his 
position.  His  style  is  noble,  dignified  and  transparent.  It 
is  the  "large  utterance"  of  a  great  people.  I  know  of  no 
modern  compositions  which,  in  form  and  substance,  embody 
so  much  of  what  we  understand  by  the  epithet  Roman. 
Such,  indeed,  we  may  imagine  the  state  papers  of  the 
Horn  an  Senate  to  have  been,  in  the  best  days  of  the  Re 
public. 

His  arguments,  speeches,  occasional  discourses  and 
diplomatic  writings  have  all  a  marked  family  likeness. 
They  are  all  characterized  by  strength  and  simplicity.  He 
never  goes  out  of  his  way  to  make  a  point  or  drag  in  an 
illustration.  His  ornaments,  sparingly  introduced,  are  of 
that  pure  gold  which  defies  the  sharpest  test  of  criticism. 
He  had  more  of  imagination,  properly  so  called,  than 
fancy,  and  his  images  are  more  grand  than  picturesque. 
He  writes  like  a  man  who  is  thinking  of  his  subject,  and 
not  of  his  style,  and  thus  wastes  no  time  upon  the  mere 
p;arb  of  his  thoughts.  His  mind  was  so  full  that  epithet 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  535 

and  illustration  grew  with  his  words,  like  flowers  on  the 
stalk.  It  is  a  striking  fact  that  a  man  who  has  had  so 
great  an  influence  over  the  mind  of  America  should  have 
been  so  free  from  our  national  defects  ;  our  love  of  exag- 

feration,  and  our  excessive  use  of  figurative  language, 
[is  style  is  Doric,  not  Corinthian.  His  sentences  are  like 
shafts  hewn  from  the  granite  of  his  own  hills — simple, 
massive  and  strong.  We  may  apply  to  him  what  Quinti- 
lian  says  of  Cicero,  that  a  relish  for  his  writings  is  itself  a 
mark  of  good  taste.  He  is  always  plain  ;  sometimes  even 
homely  and  unfinished.  But  a  great  writer  may  be,  and 
indeed  must  be,  homely  and  unfinished  at  times.  Dealing 
with  great  subjects,  he  must  vary  his  manner.  Some  things 
he  will  put  in  the  foreground,  and  some  in  the  background; 
some  in  light,  and  some  in  shadow.  He  will  not  hesitate, 
therefore,  to  say  plain  things  in  a  plain  way.  When  the 
glow  and  impulse  of  his  genius  are  upon  him,  he  will  not 
stop  to  adjust  every  fold  in  his  mantle.  His  writings  will 
leave  upon  the  mind  an  effect  like  that  of  the  natural 
landscape  upon  the  eye,  where  nothing  is  trim  and  formal, 
but  where  all  the  sweeps  and  swells,  though  rarely  conform 
ing  to  an  ideal  line  of  beauty,  blend  together  in  a  general 
impression  of  grace,  fertility  and  power. 

His  knowledge  of  law,  politics  and  government  was  pro 
found,  various  and  exact ;  but  a  man  of  learning,  in  the 
sense  in  which  this  word  is  commonly  used,  he  could  not 
be  called.  His  life  had  been  too  busy  to  leave  much  time 
for  scientific  or  literary  research  ;  nor  had  he  that  passion 
ate  love  of  books  which  made  him  content  to  pass  all  his 
leisure  hours  in  his  library.  He  had  read  much,  but  not 
many  books.  He  was  a  better  Latin  scholar  than  the  ave 
rage  of  our  educated  men,  and  he  read  the  Roman  authors, 
to  the  last,  with  discriminating  relish.  A  mind  like  his 
was  naturally  drawn  to  the  grand  and  stately  march  of 
Roman  genius.  With  the  best  English  writers  he  was  en 
tirely  familiar,  and  he  took  great  pleasure  in  reading  them 
and  discussing  their  merits. 

To  science,  as  recorded  in  books,  he  had  given  little 
time,  but  he  had  the  faculties  and  organization  which 
would  easily  have  made  him  a  man  of  science.  He  had 
the  senses  of  an  Indian  hunter.  Of  the  knowledge  that 


536  EUl  OGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

is  gathered  by  observation — as  of  the  names  and  properties 
of  plants,  the  song  and  plumage  of  birds,  and  the  forms 
and  growth  of  trees — he  had  much  more  than  most  men 
of  his  class.  His  eye  was  accurate  as  his  mind  was  dis 
criminating.  Never  was  his  conversation  more  interesting 
than  when  speaking  of  natural  objects  and  natural  pheno 
mena.  His  words  had  the  freshness  of  morning,  and 
seemed  to  bring  with  them  the  breezes  of  the  hills  and  the 
fragrance  of  spring. 

Mr.  Webster,  both  as  a  writer  and  a  speaker,  was  un 
equal,  and,  from  the  nature  of  his  mind  and  temperament, 
it  could  not  be  otherwise.  He  was  not  of  an  excitable 
organization,  and  felt  no  nervous  anxiety  lest  he  should 
fall  below  the  standard  of  expectation  raised  by  previous 
efforts.  Hence,  he  was  swayed  by  the  mood,  mental  or 
physical,  in  which  each  occasion  found  him.  He  required 
a  great  subject,  or  a  great  antagonist,  to  call  forth  all  his 
slumbering  power.  At  times,  he  looked  and  spoke  almost 
like  a  superhuman  creature ;  at  others,  he  seemed  but  the 
faint  reflex  of  himself.  His  words  fell  slowly  and  heavily 
from  his  lips,  as  if  each  cost  him  a  distinct  effort.  The  in 
fluence,  therefore,  which  he  had  over  popular  assemblies, 
was  partly  owing  to  his  great  weight  of  character. 

He  had  strong  out-of-door  tastes,  and  they  contributed 
to  the  health  of  his  body  and  mind.  He  was  a  keen  sports 
man,  and  a  lover  of  the  mountains  and  the  sea.  His  heart 
warmed  to  a  fine  tree,  as  to  the  face  of  a  friend.  He  had 
that  fondness  for  agriculture  and  rural  pursuits  so  common 
among  statesmen.  Herein  the  grand  scale  of  the  whole 
man  gave  direction  and  character  to  his  tastes.  He  did 
riot  care  for  minute  finish  and  completeness  on  a  limited 
scale.  He  had  no  love  for  trim  gardens  and  formal  plea 
sure-grounds.  His  wishes  clasped  the  whole  landscape. 
He  liked  to  see  the  broad  fields  of  clover,  with  the  morning 
dew  upon  them,  yellow  waves  of  grain  heaving  and  rolling 
in  the  sun,  and  great  cattle  lying  down  in  the  shade  of 
great  trees.  He  liked  to  hear  the  whetting  of  the  mower's 
scythe,  the  loud  beat  of  the  thresher's  flail,  and  the  heavy 
groan  of  loaded  wagons.  The  smell  of  the  new-mown  hay, 
and  of  the  freshly-turned  furrows  in  spring,  was  cordial  to 
his  spirit.  He  took  pleasure  in  all  forms  of  aniiiial  life, 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  537 

and  his  heart  was  glad  when  his  cattle  lifted  up  their  large- 
eyed,  contemplative  faces,  and  recognised  their  lord  by  a 
look. 

His  mental  powers  were  commended  by  a  remarkable 
personal  appearance.  He  was  probably  the  grandest-look 
ing  man  of  his  time.  Wherever  he  went,  men  turned  to 
gaze  at  him  ;  and  he  could  not  enter  a  room  without  having 
every  eye  fastened  upon  him.  His  face  was  very  striking, 
both  in  form  and  color.  His  brow  was  to  common  brows 
what  the  great  dome  of  St.  Peter's  is  to  the  small  cupolas 
at  its  side.  The  eyebrow,  the  eye,  and  the  dark  and  deep 
socket  in  which  it  glowed,  were  full  of  power;  but  the 
great  expression  of  his  face  lay  in  the  mouth.  This  was 
the  most  speaking  and  flexible  of  features,  moulded  by 
every  mood  of  feeling,  from  iron  severity  to  the  most  cap 
tivating  sweetness.  His  countenance  changed  from  stern 
ness  to  softness  with  magical  rapidity.  His  smile  was 
beaming,  warming,  fascinating,  lighting  up  his  whole  face 
like  a  sudden  sunrise.  His  voice  was  rich,  deep  and  strong; 
filling  the  largest  space  without  effort,  capable  of  most 
startling  and  impressive  tones,  and,  when  under  excitement, 
rising  and  swelling  into  a  volume  of  sound  like  the  roar 
of  a  tempest.  His  action  was  simple  and  dignified — and 
in  his  animated  moods  highly  expressive.  Those  of  us  who 
recall  his  presence  as  he  stood  up  here  to  speak,  in  the 
pride  and  strength  of  his  manhood,  have  formed  from  his 
words,  looks,  tones  and  actions,  an  ideal  standard  of  phy 
sical  and  intellectual  power,  which  we  never  expect  to  see 
approached,  but  by  which  we  unconsciously  try  the  great 
ness  of  which  we  read,  as  well  as  that  which  we  meet. 

He  was  a  man  more  known  and  admired  than  understood. 
His  great  qualities  were  conspicuous  from  afar ;  but  that 
part  of  his  nature,  which  he  shared  with  other  men,  was 
apprehended  by  comparatively  few.  His  manners  did  not 
always  do  him  justice.  For  many  years  of  his  life,  great 
burdens  rested  upon  him,  and  at  times  his  cares  and 
thoughts  settled  down  darkly  upon  his  spirit,  and  he  was 
then  a  man  of  an  awful  presence.  He  required  to  be  loved, 
before  he  could  be  known.  He,  indeed,  grappled  his  friends 
to  him  with  hooks  of  steel,  but  he  did  not  always  conciliate 
those  who  were  not  his  friends.  He  had  a  lofty  spirit,  which 


538  EULOGIES   ON   WEBSTER. 

could  not  stoop  or  dissemble.  He  could  neither  affect  what 
he  did  not  feel,  nor  desire  to  conceal  what  he  did.  His 
wishes  clung  with  tenacious  hold  to  every  thing  they  grasped 
• — and  from  those  who  stood,  or  seemed  to  stand,  in  his  way, 
his  countenance  was  averted.  Some,  who  were  not  unwill 
ing  to  become  his  friends,  were  changed  by  his  manners 
into  foes.  He  was  social  in  his  nature,  but  not  facile.  He 
was  seen  to  the  best  advantage  among  a  few  old  and  tried 
friends,  especially  in  his  old  home.  Then  his  spirits  rose, 
his  countenance  expanded,  and  he  looked  and  moved  like  a 
schoolboy  on  a  holiday.  Conscious  that  no  unfriendly  ear 
was  listening  to  him,  his  conversation  became  easy,  play 
ful  and  natural.  His  memory  was  richly  stored  with  cha 
racteristic  anecdotes,  and  with  amusing  reminiscences  of 
his  own  early  life  and  of  the  men  who  were  conspicuous 
when  he  was  young,  all  of  which  he  narrated  with  an  ad 
mirable  mixture  of  dignity  and  grace.  Those  who  saw  him 
in  these  hours  of  social  ease,  with  his  armor  off,  and  the 
current  of  his  thoughts  turning,  gently  and  gracefully,  to 
chance  topics  and  familiar  themes,  could  hardly  believe 
that  he  was  the  same  man  who  was  so  reserved  and  austere 
in  public. 

But,  it  may  be  asked,  had  this  great  man  no  faults  ? 
Surely  he  had.  No  man  liveth  and  sinneth  not.  There 
were  veins  of  human  imperfection  running  through  his 
large  heart  and  large  brain.  But  neither  men,  nor  the 
works  of  men,  should  be  judged  by  their  defects.  Like  all 
eminent  persons,  he  fell  upon  evil  tongues ;  but  those  who 
best  knew  his  private  life  most  honored,  venerated,  and 
loved  him. 

He  was  a  man  of  strong  religious  feeling.  For  theolo 
gical  speculations  he  had  little  taste,  but  he  had  reflected 
deeply  on  the  relations  between  God  and  the  human  soul, 
and  his  heart  was  penetrated  with  a  devotional  spirit.  He 
had  been,  from  his  youth  upward,  a  diligent  student  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  few  men,  whether  clergymen  or  laymen, 
were  more  familiar  with  their  teachings  and  their  language. 
He  had  a  great  reverence  for  the  very  words  of  the  Bible, 
and  never  used  them  in  any  light  or  trivial  connection. 
He  never  avoided  the  subjects  of  life,  death  and  immor 
tality,  and  when  he  spoke  of  them,  it  was  with  unusual 


GEORGE  s.  HILLARD'S  EULOGY.  539 

depth  of  feeling  and  impressiveness  of  manner.  Within 
the  last  few  months  of  his  life,  his  thoughts  and  speech 
were  often  turned  upon  such  themes.  He  felt  that  he  was 
an  old  man,  and  that  it  became  him  to  set  his  house  in 
order.  On  the  eighteenth  day  of  January  last,  he  had 
completed  the  threescore  and  ten  years  which  are  man's 
allotted  portion,  and  yet  his  eye  was  not  dim,  nor  his 
natural  force  much  abated.  But  he  grew  weaker  with  the 
approach  of  summer,  and  his  looks  and  voice,  when  he  last 
addressed  us  from  this  place,  a  few  months  ago,  forced 
upon  us  the  mournful  reflection  that  this  great  light  must 
soon  sink  below  the  horizon.  But  yet,  when  the  news  came 
that  the  hand  of  death  was  upon  him,  it  startled  us  like  a 
sudden  blow,  for  he  was  become  so  important  to  us,  that  we 
could  not  look  steadily  at  the  thought  of  losing  him.  You 
remember  what  a  sorrow  it  was  that  settled  down  upon  our 
city.  The  common  business  of  life  dragged  heavily  with 
us  in  those  days.  There  was  but  one  expression  on  the 
faces  of  men,  and  but  one  question  on  their  lips.  We 
listened  to  the  tidings  which  cam£  up,  hour  after  hour,  from 
his  distant  chamber,  as  men  upon  the  shore,  in  a  night  of 
storm,  listen  to  the  minute-guns  of  a  sinking  ship  freighted 
with  the  treasures  of  their  hearts.  The  grief  of  the  people 
was  eager  for  the  minutest  details  of  his  closing  hours,  and 
he  died  with  his  country  around  his  bed.  Of  the  beauty 
and  grandeur  of  that  death  I  need  not  speak  to  you,  for  it 
is  fixed  in  your  memories,  and  deep  in  your  hearts.  It  fell 
upon  the  whole  land  like  a  voice  from  heaven.  He  died 
calmly,  simply  and  bravely.  He  was  neither  weary  of  life, 
nor  afraid  of  death.  He  died  like  a  husband,  a  father,  a 
friend,  a  Christian  and  a  man;  with  thoughtful  tenderness 
for  all  around  him,  and  a  trembling  faith  in  the  mercy  of 
God.  He  was  not  tried  by  long  and  hopeless  suffering; 
nor  were  his  friends  saddened  by  seeing  the  lights  put  out 
before  the  curtain  fell.  His  mind,  like  a  setting  sun,  seemed 
larger  at  the  closing  hour.  Such  a  death  narrows  the  dark 
valley  to  a  span.  Such  is  a  midsummer's  day  at  the  poles, 
where  sunset  melts  into  sunrise,  and  the  last  ray  of  evening 
is  caught  up,  and  appears  once  more  as  the  first  beams  of 
the  new  morning. 

I  should  not  feel   that  my   duty  had  been  wholly  dis- 


540  EULOGIES    ON   WEBSTER. 

charged,  did  I  not  speak  of  the  touching  simplicity  and 
solemnity  of  his  funeral.  In  his  will,  made  a  few  days 
before  his  death,  he  says  :  "I  wish  to  be  buried  without 
the  least  show  or  ostentation,  but  in  a  manner  respectful  to 
my  neighbors,  whose  kindness  has  contributed  so  much  to 
the  happiness  of  me  and  mine,  and  for  whose  prosperity  I 
offer  sincere  prayers  to  God."  His  wishes  were  faithfully 
observed,  and,  in  the  arrangements  for  his  funeral,  there 
was  no  recognition  of  worldly  distinction  or  official  rank. 
He  was  buried  simply  as  the  head  of  a  household,  after  the 
manner  of  New  England.  But  the  immense  crowds  which 
were  there,  drawn  from  all  parts  of  the  land  by  their  own 
veneration  and  love,  formed  an  element  of  impressiveness 
far  above  all  civil  pageantry  or  military  honors.  Who, 
that  was  there  present,  will  ever  forget  the  scene  on  which 
fell  the  light  of  that  soft  autumnal  day  ?  There  was  the 
landscape  so  stamped  with  his  image  and  identified  with  his 
presence.  There  were  the  trees  he  had  planted,  the  fields 
over  which  he  had  delighted  to  walk,  and  the  ocean  whose 
waves  were  music  to  his  ear.  There  was  the  house  with  its 
hospitable  door  ;  but  the  stately  form  of  its  master  did  not 
stand  there,  with  outstretched  hand  and  smile  of  welcome. 
That  smile  had  vanished  forever  from  the  earth,  and  the 
hand  and  form  were  silent,  cold  and  motionless.  The  dig 
nity  of  life  had  given  place  to  the  dignity  of  death.  No 
narrow  chamber  held  that  illustrious  dust ;  no  coffin  con 
cealed  that  majestic  frame.  In  the  open  air,  clad  as  when 
alive,  he  lay  extended  in  seeming  sleep  ;  with  no  touch  of 
disfeature  upon  his  brow;  as  noble  an  image  of  reposing 
strength  as  ever  was  seen  upon  earth.  Around  him  was 
the  landscape  that  he  loved,  and  above  him  was  nothing 
but  the  dome  of  the  covering  heavens.  The  sunshine  fell 
upon  the  dead  man's  face,  and  the  breeze  blew  over  it.  A 
lover  of  nature,  he  seemed  to  be  gathered  into  her  mater 
nal  arms,  and  to  lie  like  a  child  upon  a  mother's  lap.  We 
felt,  as  we  looked  upon  him,  that  death  had  never  stricken 
down,  at  one  blow,  a  greater  sum  of  life.  And  whose  heart 
lid  not  swell,  when,  from  the  honored  and  distinguished 
men  there  gathered  together,  six  plain  Marshfield  farmers 
were  called  forth,  to  carry  the  head  of  their  neighbor  to 
the  grave  ?  Slowly  and  sadly  the  vast  multitude  followed, 


HIRAM  KETCHUM'S  EULOGY.  541 

in  mourning  silence,  and  he  was  laid  down  to  rest  among 
dear  and  kindred  dust.  There,  among  the  scenes  that  he 
loved  in  life,  he  sleeps  well.  He  has  left  his  name  and 
memory  to  dwell  forever  upon  those  hills  and  valleys,  to 
breathe  a  more  spiritual  tone  into  the  winds  that  blow  over 
his  grave,  to  touch  with  finer  light  the  line  of  the  break 
ing  wave,  to  throw  a  more  solemn  beauty  upon  the  hues  of 
Autumn  and  the  shadows  of  twilight. 

But  though  his  mortal  form  is  there,  his  spirit  is  here. 
His  words  are  written  in  living  light  along  these  walls. 
May  that  spirit  rest  upon  us  and  our  children  !  May  those 
words  live  in  our  hearts  and  the  hearts  of  those  who  come 
after  us!  May  we  honor  his  memory,  and  show  our  grati 
tude  for  his  life  by  taking  heed  to  his  counsels,  and  walk 
ing  in  the  way  on  which  the  light  of  his  wisdom  shines  ! 


XVII. 

EULOGY    ON    MR.    WEBSTER,    DELIVERED     IN     NEW    YORK 
CITY,  BY  HIRAM  KETCHUM,  ESQ. 

"  THE  offices  of  this  day  belong  less  to  grief  and  sorrow 
than  congratulation  and  joy.  It  is  true  that  our  illustrious 
countryman,  Daniel  Webster,  is  no  longer  numbered 
among  the  living,  but  it  is  a  subject  of  congratulation  that 
he  lived  beyond  the  ordinary  period  allotted  to  human  life, 
and  that  he  was  permitted  to  die,  as  he  had  lived  for  thirty 
years,  in  the  service  of  his  country  ;  and  at  his  own  home, 
in  his  own  bed,  surrounded  by  his  domestic  family  and 
friends.  The  great  luminary  of  the  bar,  the  Senate  and 
the  Council  Chamber  is  set  forever,  but  it  is  a  subject  of 
rejoicing  that  it  is  set  in  almost  supernatural  splendor,  ob- 
scured  by  no  cloud,  not  a  ray  darkened. 

"  I  have  often  heard  Mr.  Webster  express  a  great  dread, 
I  may  say  horrible  dread,  of  a  failure  of  intellect.  He 
did  not  live  long  enough  to  experience  such  failure.  1 
rejoice  that  he  lived  long  enough  to  collect,  and  supervise, 
and  publish  to  the  world  his  own  works.  Many  of  our 

46 


542  EULOGIES    ON    WEBSTER. 

distinguished  countrymen  live  only  in  tradition;  but  Daniel 
Webster  has  made  up  the  record  for  himself;  a  record 
which  discloses,  clear  as  light,  his  political,  moral  and  re 
ligious  principles — a  record  containing  i  no  word  which, 
dying,  he  might  wish  to  blot'  or  any  friend  of  his  desire 
to  efface.  More  than  any  living  man,  he  has  instructed 
the  whole  generation  of  American  citizens  in  their  political 
duties,  and  taught  the  young  men  of  the  country  how  to 
think  clearly,  reason  fairly,  and  clothe  thought  in  the  most 
simple  and  beautiful  English.  He  has  reared  his  own 
monument.  '  There  it  stands,  and  there  it  will  stand  for 
ever  !'  The  rock  which  was  first  pressed  by  the  feet  of  the 
Pilgrims  first  landing  on  the  shores  of  this  Western  Conti 
nent  is  destined  long  to  be  remembered  ;  but  not  longer 
than  the  oration  commemorating  that  event,  delivered  two 
hundred  years  after  it  occurred,  by  Daniel  Webster. 

"  The  monument  which  indicates  the  spot  where  the  first 
great  battle  of  the  American  Revolution  was  fought  will 
stand  as  long  as  monumental  granite  can  stand ;  but  long 
after  it  is  obliterated  and  scattered,  the  oration  delivered 
on  laying  its  corner-stone,  and  the  other  oration,  pro 
nounced  nineteen  years  after,  on  its  completion,  will  live  to 
tell  that  such  a  monument  was.  The  names  of  John 
Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson  will  be  known  to  a  distant 
futurity  ;  but  I  believe  that  among  the  last  records  which 
will  tell  of  their  name  will  be  the  eulogy,  of  which  they 
were  the  theme,  pronounced  by  Daniel  Webster.  We  all 
hope,  and  some  of  us  believe,  that  the  Constitution  and 
Union  of  our  country  will  be  perpetual ;  but  we  know  that 
the  speeches  and  orations  in  defence  and  commendation  of 
that  Constitution  and  Union  delivered  by  Daniel  Webster 
will  live  as  long  as  the  English  language  is  spoken  among 
men.  I  might  refer  to  the  Capitol  of  the  country,  to  every 
important  institution,  and  every  great  name  in  our  land 
among  the  living  and  the  dead,  for  there  is  not  one  of  them 
that  has  not  been  embalmed  in  his  eloquence. 

"In  the  few  remaining  remarks  which  I  have  to  make," 
continued  Mr.  Ketchum,  "  allow  me,  sir,  to  speak  of  some 
of  the  personal  characteristics  of  Mr.  Webster,  as  they 
have  fallen  under  my  own  observation.  I  have  long  been 
acquainted  with  him.  From  all  I  know,  have  seen  and 


HIRAM  KETCHUM'S  EULOGY.  543 

heard,  I  am  here,  to-day,  to  bear  testimony  that  Daniel 
Webster,  as  a  public  man,  possessed  the  highest  integrity. 
He  always  seemed  to  me  to  act  under  the  present  conviction 
that  whatever  he  did  would  be  known  not  only  to  his  con 
temporaries,  but  to  posterity.  He  was  '  clear  in  office.* 
He  regarded  political  power  as  power  in  trust ;  and  though 
always  willing  and  desirous  to  oblige  his  friends,  yet  he 
would  never,  directly  or  indirectly,  violate  that  trust.  I 
have  known  him  in  private  and  domestic  life.  During  the 
last  twenty-five  years  I  have  received  many  letters  from 
him  ;  some  of  which  I  yet  retain,  and  some  have  been  de 
stroyed  at  his  request.  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meet 
ing  him  often  in  private  circles  and  at  the  festive  board, 
where  some  of  our  sessions  were  not  short ;  but  neither  in 
his  letters  nor  his  conversation  have  I  ever  known  him  to 
express  an  impure  thought,  an  immoral  sentiment,  or  use 
profane  language.  Neither  in  writing  nor  in  conversation 
have  I  ever  known  him  to  assail  any  man.  No  man,  in 
my  hearing,  was  ever  slandered  or  spoken  ill  of  by  Daniel 
Webster.  Never  in  my  life  have  I  known  a  man  whose 
conversation  was  uniformly  so  unexceptionable  in  tone  and 
edifying  in  character.  No  man  ever  had  more  tenderness 
of  feeling  than  Daniel  Webster.  He  had  his  enemies  as 
malignant  as  any  man ;  but  there  was  not  one  of  them 
who,  if  he  came  to  him  in  distress,  would  not  obtain  all  the 
relief  in  his  power  to  bestow.  To  say  that  he  had  no  weak 
nesses  and  failings  would  be  to  say  that  he  was  not  human. 
Those  failings  have  been  published  to  the  world,  and  his 
friends  would  have  no  reason  to  complain  of  that  if  they 
had  not  been  exaggerated.  It  is  due  to  truth  and  sound 
morality  to  say,  in  this  place,  that  no  public  services,  no 
eminent  talent,  can  or  should  sanctify  errors.  It  was  one 
)f  Mr.  Webster's  characteristics  that  he  abhorred  all  affec 
tation.  That  affectation,  often  seen  in  young  men,  of  speak 
ing  in  public  upon  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  Avithout  pre 
vious  thought  and  preparation,  of  all  others  he  most  de 
spised.  He  never  spoke  without  previous  thought  and 
laborious  preparation.  As  was  truly  said  by  my  venerable 
friend  who  just  sat  down,  (Mr.  Staples,)  he  was  industrious 
to  the  end.  When,  on  leaving  college,  he  assumed  the 
place  of  teacher  in  an  academy,  in  an  interior  town  of  New 


544  EULOGIES   ON   WEBSTER. 

England,  the  most  intelligent  predicted  his  future  emi 
nence.  After  his  first  speech  in  court,  in  his  native  State, 
a  learned  judge  remarked,  '  I  have  just  heard  a  speech 
from  a  young  man  who  will  hereafter  become  the  first  man 
in  the  country.'  The  predictions  that  were  made  of  Daniel 
Webster's  career  were  not  merely  that  he  would  be  a  great 
man,  but  the  first  man. 

"  I  have  often  thought  that  if  other  men  could  have  been 
as  diligent  and  assiduous  as  Mr.  Webster,  they  might  have 
equalled  him  in  achievement.  When  he  addressed  the  court, 
the  bar,  the  Senate,  or  the  people,  he  ever  thought  he  had 
no  right  to  speak  without  previous  preparation.  He  came 
before  the  body  to  which  he  was  to  speak  with  his  thoughts 
arrayed  in  their  best  dress.  He  thought  this  was  due  to 
men  who  would  stand  and  hear  him ;  and  the  result  was 
that  every  thing  he  said  was  always  worthy  of  being  read ; 
and  no  public  man  in  our  country  has  ever  been  so  much 
read. 

"  It  may  be  conceded  (whether  it  was  a  virtue  or  a  weak 
ness)  that  Daniel  Webster  was  ambitious.  He  was.  He 
desired  to  attain  high  position,  and  to  surpass  every  man 
who  had  occupied  the  same  before  him.  He  spared  no 
labor  or  assiduity  to  accomplish  this  end.  Whether  he  has 
succeeded  or  not,  posterity  must  say.  I  will  add,  that  it  is 
true  that  he  desired  the  highest  political  position  in  the 
country  ;  that  he  thought  he  had  fairly  earned  a  claim  to 
that  position.  And  I  solemnly  believe  that  because  that 
claim  was  denied,  his  days  were  shortened.  I  came  here, 
sir,  to  speak  of  facts  as  they  are ;  neither  to  censure  nor  to 
applaud  any  man  or  set  of  men  :  whether  what  has  been 
done  has  been  well  done,  or  what  has  been  omitted  has  been 
well  omitted,  the  public  must  decide.  May  I  be  permitted 
to  add  that,  though  I  am  no  man's  worshipper,  I  have 
deeply  sympathized  in  thought,  in  word  and  in  act  with 
that  desire  of  Mr.  Webster  ?  I  have  continued  this  sym 
pathy  with  that  desire  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life.  If 
there  be  honor  in  this,  let  it  attach  to  me  and  mine  ;  if 
disgrace,  let  it  be  visited  upon  me  arid  niy  children." 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


THE  funeral  of  Mr.  Webster,  at  Marshfield,  on  Friday, 
was  a  most  imposing  spectacle.  The  "Post"  describes  it 
as  follows  : 

The  sun  had  not  risen  before  the  people  began  to  gather 
in  vehicles  of  every  description.  The  neighboring  towns 
were  besieged  the  night  previous  with  strangers  on  their 
way  to  the  funeral.  Every  hotel,  private  dwelling,  barn, 
shed  and  stable  for  ten  miles  around  Marshfield  were  oc 
cupied  on  Thursday  night.  The  gathering  was  large  be 
yond  calculation.  Every  avenue  leading  to  Marshfield 
was  thronged  with  inward-bound  vehicles  from  the  time 
named  above  until  the  tomb  closed  over  the  remains  of 
the  great  departed.  The  number  of  carriages  was  so 
great  that  the  avenues  to  the  grounds  in  the  rear  of  the 
mansion  were  thrown  open  to  receive  them.  Two  steam 
boats,  the  Mayflower  and  the  Atlantic,  entered  Green  Bay 
freighted  with  about  fifteen  hundred  people.  The  last 
named  did  not  land  her  passengers  until  near  half-past 
two  o'clock.  The  remains  of  Mr.  Webster  were  removed 
from  the  library  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  a 
position  immediately  in  front  of  the  mansion,  beneath  the 
spreading  branches  of  a  large  and  magnificent  silver- 
leafed  poplar-tree.  The  cover  of  the  coffin  was  then 
removed,  presenting  a  view  of  the  entire  body.  It  was 
attired  in  a  suit  familiar  to  all  who  have  ever  seen  Mr. 
Webster.  The  Faneuil  Hall  suit — the  blue  coat  with 
bright  buttons,  white  pants,  white  vest,  white  neckerchief, 
with  wide  collar  turned  over.  The  features  of  Mr.  Web 
ster  were  natural,  and  exhibited  a  marked  serenity,  seem 
ing  rather  to  be  those  of  a  pleasant  sleeper  than  one  in 
the  arms  of  death.  The  coffin,  or  "  metallic  burial-case,"  is 
very  beautiful.  It  is  so  constructed  as  to  combine  every 
Valuable  quality  for  deposit  in  the  earth,  and  the  preserva- 

•tti*  545 


546  OBSEQUIES    OF   WEBSTER. 

tion  of  remains  from  decomposition.  It  is  similar  in  its 
outlines  to  the  human  form  when  placed  in  a  horizontal  or 
recumbent  position.  It  consists  of  an  upper  and  lower 
metallic  shell,  which  are  joined  together  in  a  horizontal 
line  in  the  centre,  each  part  being  of  about  equal  depth. 
These  shells  are  more  or  less  curvilinear,  and  are  made 
exceedingly  thin,  yet  being  sufficiently  strong  to  resist  any 
pressure  to  which  they  may  be  subject  while  in  use.  The 
shells  have  each  a  narrow  flange,  which,  when  placed  to< 
gether,  are  bound  by  screws,  inserted  through  the  flanges 
and  cemented  at  the  point  of  junction  with  a  substance 
which  soon  becomes  as  hard  as  the  metal  itself.  The  case 
is  enamelled  inside  and  out,  and  is  made  thoroughly  air 
tight.  The  upper  shell  is  raised-work,  and  ornamented  in 
the  casting  with  the  appearance  of  folding  drapery  thrown 
over  the  body.  This  is  covered  with  a  rich  black  drapery, 
neatly  gathered  and  beautifully  fringed.  The  case  was 
superbly  decorated  with  chased  silver  ornaments,  with 
flowers  and  emblems  of  mortality  neatly  inwrought.  It 
has  a  heavy  oval  glass  over  the  face,  on  which  is  screwed  a 
silver  cover ;  on  the  breast  of  the  upper  shell  is  a  smooth 
silver  plate,  upon  which  is  inscribed  alone  the  name  of 
DANIEL  WEBSTER.  It  has  three  ornamental  silver  handles 
on  each  side.  This  elegant  piece  of  work  was  manufac 
tured  by  Messrs.  Huyler  &  Putnam,  of  New  York.  The 
entire  farm,  consisting  of  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and 
sixty-two  acres,  was  thrown  open  to  the  public,  as  also  was 
the  mansion,  both  of  which  were  inspected  in  every  part 
by  the  vast  multitude  assembled.  A  stream  of  human 
beings  passed  through  each  room  of  the  lower  part  of  the 
mansion,  entering  at  the  eastern  door  and  passing  out  the 
west,  from  the  hour  of  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  until 
twelve,  at  the  rate  of  two  hundred  and  twenty-four  per 
sons  every  five  minutes.  At  eleven  o'clock,  delegations, 
representing  various  city  governments,  and  Whig  and  De 
mocratic  organizations,  and  literary  institutions,  arrived. 
General  Franklin  Pierce  was  present,  under  conduct  of 
Peter  Harvey  and  James  E.  Thayer,  of  Boston,  and  Dr. 
Putnam,  of  Iloxbury.  President  King,  of  the  Columbia 
College  ;  the  venerable  Chief  Justice  Jones,  of  New  York  ; 
Governor  Marcy,  Judge  Parker,  and  Judge  Harris,  of 


OBSEQUIES  OF  WEBSTER.  547 

Albany ;  the  Hon.  George  Griswold,  of  New  York ;  Hon 
Abbott  Lawrence,  Hon.  Rufus  Choate,  President  Everett, 
Mr.  Ashmun,  Robert  G.  Shaw,  his  Excellency  Governor 
Boutwell  and  Council,  General  Wilson,  President  of  the 
Massachusetts  Senate,  and  Speaker  Banks  and  Judge 
Sprague,  were  among  the  distinguished  persons  present. 
The  body  was  so  arranged,  and  guarded  by  a  body  of 
police  from  this  city,  detailed  to  that  duty,  that  it  was  wit 
nessed  by  nearly  all  who  desired  before  the  services.  At 
half-past  twelve  o'clock  it  was  enclosed,  and  placed  upon 
a  plain  open  hearse,  neatly  draped,  and  drawn  by  two  jet 
black  horses,  appropriately  dressed.  At  this  hour  the 
services  were  announced  to  commence.  The  officiating 
clergyman,  the  Rev.  Ebenezer  Alden,  Jr.,  pastor  of  the 
Orthodox  Society  in  Marshfield,  where  Mr.  Webster  and 
family  attended  church,  occupied  a  position  in  the  front 
hall,  near  the  door.  The  crowd  at  this  time,  inside  and 
outside  the  door,  was  very  great.  The  female  relatives 
occupied  the  upper  portion  of  the  house.  Mr.  Alden 
commenced  the  services  by  reading  a  selection  from  the 
Scripture.  He  then  delivered  a  feeling  address,  after 
which  prayer  followed. 

The  procession  then  formed,  composed  wholly  of  males, 
without  carriages,  and  at  half-past  one  moved  from  the 
residence  to  the  tomb  upon  an  eminence  in  the  rear  of  the 
mansion,  north.  This  is  upon  the  Webster  estate,  and  in 
the  centre  of  what  is  called  Winslow's  Burying-Ground. 
The  remains  of  Governor  Winslow  lie  here ;  also  those  of 
Peregrine  White,  the  first  person  born  in  this  country  of 
the  Pilgrim  stock.  About  one  year  since,  Mr.  Webster 
caused  a  portion  of  this  place  to  be  enclosed  for  his  own 
family,  and  a  tomb  constructed.  This  tomb  was  first  oc 
cupied  on  Thursday  by  the  bodies  of  Mr.  Webster's  family, 
all  of  whom  were  removed  from  under  St.  Paul's  Church, 
in  this  city.  The  pall-bearers  were  composed  of  farmers 
in  Mr.  Webster's  own  neighborhood. 

The  procession  was  large,  imposing,  and  solemn.     Upon 
reaching  the  enclosure,  the  body  was  placed  near  the  en 
trance,  and  again   opened    to  view  for  the  relatives  and 
friends.     Here  a  delay  was  occasioned  by  the  arrival  of 
about  seven   hundred  persons  from  Boston,  having  just 


548  OBSEQUIES   OF   WEBSTER. 

reached  there  from  the  steamer  Atlantic,  all  of  whom  de 
sired  to  witness  the  remains,  and  were  gratified.  At  twenty 
minutes  before  three  o'clock  the  case  was  again  closed,  and 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Alden  pronounced  the  prayer  and  benedic 
tion. 

The  body  was  placed  in  a  large-sized  case,  and  entombed, 
and  the  assembled  multitude  wended  their  way  slowly 
from  the  spot.  Silently  and  sadly  the  gathered  host  took 
up  the  line  of  march  homeward,  and  by  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  the  accustomed  quiet  reigned  within  and  around 
the  fine  old  mansion  of  the  late  illustrious  statesman.  The 
occasion  was  one  never  to  be  forgotten.  It  was  the  most 
solemn  and  impressive  we  ever  witnessed.  It  was  estimated 
that  the  funeral  was  attended  by  at  least  ten  thousand 
persons. 

The  "Boston  Atlas,"  speaking  of  the  ceremonies,  says 
that  General  Pierce,  who  was  present,  appeared  to  be  much 
affected.  The  coffin  and  remains  were  exposed  to  view  on 
the  lawn  in  front  of  the  house. 

A  large  number  of  bouquets  and  wreaths  of  flowers 
covered  the  body.  The  pall-bearers,  who  were  all  men 
from  fifty  to  seventy  years  of  age,  seemed  deeply  affected 
by  the  occasion.  Each  side  of  the  road  on  the  route  of 
the  procession  was  lined  with  people. 

It  is  impossible  for  us  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  singular 
solemnity  and  simplicity  which  characterized  the  occasion 
It  was  an  appropriate  and  spontaneous  testimony,  from 
people  of  all  classes,  professions  and  opinions,  to  the 
greatness  of  mind  and  grandeur  of  character  of  him 
whose  loss  they  mourned. 


APPENDIX. 


WE  conclude  the  volume  by  adding  a  communication  of 
Mr.  Webster,  which  sets  forth  briefly  and  yet  emphatically 
his  views  in  reference  to  the  subject  of  Southern  slavery, — 
the  most  difficult  and  dangerous  problem  connected  with 
the  interests  of  the  perpetuity  of  the  Union.  The  opinions 
of  the  greatest  of  American  statesmen  on  this  subject  will 
have  a  living  interest  with  all  classes  of  intelligent  and 
patriotic  citizens : — 

LETTER  FROM  DANIEL  WEBSTER  TO  JOHN  TAYLOR. 

"WASHINGTON,  March  17,  1852. 

"  JOHN  TAYLOR  : — Go  ahead.  The  heart  of  the  winter 
is  broken,  and  before  the  first  day  of  April  all  your  land 
may  be  ploughed.  Buy  the  oxen  of  Captain  Marston,  if 
you  think  the  price  fair.  Pay  for  the  hay.  I  send  you  a 
check  for  $160,  for  these  two  objects.  Put  the  great  oxen 
in  a  condition  to  be  turned  out  and  fatted.  You  have  a 
good  horse-team  ;  and  I  think,  in  addition  to  this,  four  oxen 
and  a  pair  of  four-year  old  steers  will  do  your  work.  If 

549 


550  APPENDIX. 

you  think  so,  then  dispose  of  the  Stevens  oxen,  or  unyoke 
them  and  send  them  to  pasture,  for  beef.  I  know  not 
when  I  shall  see  you,  but  I  hope  before  planting.  If  you 
need  any  thing, — such  as  guano,  for  instance, — write  to 
Joseph  Breck,  Esq.,  Boston,  and  he  will  send  it  to  you. 

"Whatever  ground  you  sow  or  plant,  see  that  it  is  in 
good  condition.  We  want  no  pennyroyal  crops.  l  A  little 
farm  well  tilled'  is  to  a  farmer  the  next  best  thing  to  i  a 
little  wife  well  willed.'  Cultivate  your  garden.  Be  sure 
to  produce  sufficient  quantities  of  useful  vegetables.  A 
man  may  half  support  his  family  from  a  good  garden. 
Take  care  to  keep  my  mother's  garden  in  good  order,  even 
if  it  costs  you  the  wages  of  a  man  to  take  care  of  it.  I 
have  sent  you  many  garden-seeds.  Distribute  them  among 
your  neighbors.  Send  them  to  the  stores  in  the  village, 
that  everybody  may  have  a  part  of  them  without  cost.  I 
am  glad  that  you  have  chosen  Mr.  Pike  representative. 
He  is  a  true  man ;  but  there  are  in  New  Hampshire  many 
persons  who  call  themselves  Whigs — are  no  Whigs  at  all, 
and  no  better  than  disunionists.  Any  man  who  hesitates 
in  granting  and  securing  to  every  part  of  the  country  its 
constitutional  rights  is  an  enemy  to  the  whole  country. 

"John  Taylor: — If  one  of  your  boys  should  say  that 
he  honors  his  father  and  mother,  and  loves  his  brothers 
and  sisters,  but  still  insists  that  one  of  them  should  be 
driven  out  of  the  family,  what  can  you  say  of  him  but 
this,  that  there  is  no  real  family  love  in  him  ?  You  and 
I  are  farmers:  we  never  talk  politics:  our  talk  is  of 
oxen.  But  remember  this :  that  any  man  who  attempts 


APPENDIX.  551 

to  excite  one  part  of  the  country  against  another  is  just  as 
wicked  as  he  would  be  who  should  attempt  to  get  up  a 
quarrel  between  John  Taylor  and  his  neighbor  old  Mr. 
John  Sanborn,  or  his  other  neighbor,  Captain  Burleigh. 
There  are  some  animals  that  live  best  in  the  fire;  and 
there  are  some  men  who  delight  in  heat,  smoke,  combus 
tion,  and  even  general  conflagration.  They  do  not  follow 
the  things  which  make  for  peace.  They  enjoy  only  con 
troversy,  contention,  and  strife.  Have  no  communion 
with  such  persons,  either  as  neighbors  or  politicians.  You 
have  no  more  right  to  say  that  slavery  ought  not  to  exist  in 
Virginia  than  a  Virginian  has  to  say  that  slavery  ought  to 
exist  in  New  Hampshire.  This  is  a  question  left  to  every 
State  to  decide  for  itself;  and,  if  we  mean  to  keep  the 
States  together,  we  must  leave  to  every  State  this  power 
of  deciding  for  itself. 

"I  think  I  never  wrote  you  a  word  before  on  politics. 
I  shall  not  do  it  again.  I  only  say,  love  your  country, 
and  your  whole  country ;  and  when  men  attempt  to  per 
suade  you  to  get  into  a  quarrel  with  the  laws  of  other 
States,  tell  them  that  you  mean  to  mind  your  own  business, 
and  advise  them  to  mind  theirs.  John  Taylor,  you  are  a 
free  man ;  you  possess  good  principles ;  you  have  a  large 
family  to  rear  and  provide  for  by  your  labor.  Be  thankful 
to  the  Government  which  does  not  oppress  you,  which  does 
not  bear  you  down  by  excessive  taxation,  but  which  holds 
out  to  you  and  to  yours  the  hope  of  all  the  blessings  which 
liberty,  industry,  and  security  may  give.  John  Taylor, 
thank  God,  morning  and  evening,  that  you  were  born  in 


552  APPENDIX. 

such  a  country.  John  Taylor,  never  write  me  another 
word  upon  politics.  Give  my  kindest  remembrance  to 
your  wife  and  children ;  and  when  you  look  from  your 
eastern  windows  upon  the  graves  of  my  family,  remember 
that  he  who  is  the  author  of  this  letter  must  soon  follow 
them  to  another  world. 

"DANIEL  WEBSTER." 


14  DAY  USE 

"URN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  « ;  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

On  Liif*  f\ixtp*  +r\  Yvri*«wi»  — — i 

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